


Two-faced

by evangellie



Series: walking down the lj memory lane: DBSK version [11]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, Trauma, Weird, bank-robbery going so wrong, did i say weird and violent?, supernatural stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evangellie/pseuds/evangellie
Summary: There is a bank-robbery. Changmin is at the wrong place at the wrong time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting really old stuff from my livejournal days, with no editing nor rereading because of the cringe factor (just so you are warned). Originally published on 10 April 2011. For this one, I really don't know what was happening in my head.

“What the…” was what Changmin last said before a blinding pain spread through his skull. His sight became blurry. His mind shut down into a comforting darkness, thankfully erasing the picture of Yunho pointing a gun at him.

  
But let’s not be hasty and start again from the very beginning.  
  
  
It was on a cold winter day that Changmin strode intently through the streets of Seoul. He slowed down briefly to check his reflection on a shop display, verifying that he did not stand out in his plain outfit.  
  
  
Winter was his favourite season to walk around because even though the cold would awfully redden his ears –when he forgot his beanie like on that day–, it was easier to hide himself. He could snuggle his face into the warm wool of his grey scarf, effectively hiding half of his face. He breathed deeply, the scarf’s sweet scent reminding him of his mother as it filled his nose.  
  
  
Changmin turned a corner and there he was, in front of his bank office. The building was hideous, a block of grey tinted glass. A beautiful building would not make his task less boring anyway. He sighed as he pushed the door and warm air washed over him.  
  
  
There were not many people –an old lady, a young couple, a mother and her baby– and no one was waiting, making the hall seem unusually hollow.  
  
  
Changmin made his way to the last non-occupied counter, uncovering his face. He was already feeling stuffy from the heating. He smiled at the young woman – Go Hye-mi said her name-tag – who was already flushing red.  
  
  
She nervously brushed her fringe, which was a tad bit too long, to the side. His smile became more genuine as she stammered what Changmin made out to be a welcoming.  
  
  
Sometimes it was not too bad to have cute fans working everywhere as that meant his transactions could go much more quickly and smoothly, though their stares could be unnerving.  
  
  
A loud bang followed by a high-pitched scream interrupted his train of thoughts. He turned around but before he could see anything, the cute employee had grabbed his arm to make him hide behind the counter, while she had remained upright. He let himself fall harshly on his butt.  
  
  
Had that been the sound of a gun fire? The baby started to cry at the top of his lungs.  
  
  
“Everyone down or I shoot! Now, now! Except for the young girl there! And you, do something about the freaking baby or I’ll shut it up myself!”  
  
  
There were whispers and the baby’s cries became somewhat quieter. Changmin could see… Go Hye-mi was it? The shaking of Go Hye-mi's legs increased as the sound of footsteps came closer to stop in front of her counter.  
  
  
Changmin let out a shaky breath, one hand on his chest willing his heartbeat to slow down.  
  
  
“Put all the money in these bags. Quick or I’ll shoot!”  
  
  
The voice, while it had wavered at first, had a sense of determination that made Changmin think that the man –it had a low tone quality– would go through with his threat. He was no hero though, far from it. And yet…  
  
  
“Quick! Quick!”  
  
  
The woman’s shaking was so intense that she dropped a stack of money and quickly sank to her knees to retrieve it, meeting Changmin’s eyes.  
  
  
Hoping he would not be heard by the man, Changmin quickly whispered: “Is there only one?”  
  
  
She nodded, tears falling down her cheeks. He tried to smile, though it probably came out awkward, and wiped her tears along with her ruined mascara.  
  
  
“What is taking you so long? Is there… Is there some sort of alarm?” The man then started muttering, “damnit, there is always some sort of alarms behind the counters in films.”  
  
  
The footsteps sounded closer and closer, rounding the counter. Without thinking, feeling as if his heart would rip off of his ribcage like a frightened bird, As soon as the man's legs entered his field of vision, Changmin jumped at him.  
  
  
He tried to tackle him to the ground –which should have been easy thanks to the momentum of the jump– but the man avoided a full collision and now Changmin could only see the black gun in the man’s hand.  
  
  
A mere seconds wrestling for it and he found himself head first on the ground, his nose bearing all the weight of his fall.  
  
  
His sight lost focus for a second but finally cleared and Changmin could see the blood smeared across his hand from where he had touched his nose. He froze.  
  
  
The cold gun muzzle was pressed against the back of his head.  
  
  
Slowly, a hand on the floor supporting his weight, he turned around, opening his mouth to say something –anything! A “don’t shoot” probably– but it turned slack with shock as his gaze slowly rose from the gun, that was now aiming at his forehead, to the man’s face.  
  
  
“Yunho? What the…” Changmin said as the back of the gun rose and hit his right temple.  
  
  
Changmin woke up to the sound of sirens, lying on his left side, his head pillowed by warm thighs. His nose seemed to have stopped bleeding, though the dried blood made it kind of awkward to breathe and it still hurt like hell.  
  
  
Forcing his eyes open despite his pounding head, he saw a pair of old wearied trainers go back and forth. What happened?  
  
  
He shot upright, his vision swimming for a moment, but as he tried to get up, a hand gripped his arm. It was the employee, a worried look on her face, the corners of her lips downwards.  
  
  
She whispered, “Don’t do anything stupid.”  
  
  
Changmin’s nerves flared. The one doing stupid things was certainly not him. Offering a tight smile, he slowly took her hand off him and let it fall on her lap.  
  
  
“Don’t worry.”  
  
  
He jumped to his feet, his anger making his pain recede as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. However, his feet wouldn’t move any further.  
  
  
The man… Yunho turned to face him, pointing his gun right to Changmin’s heart. Because it was not just any man. This was his Hyung, one of his closest friends, the person with whom he had shared most of his hardships.  
  
  
He stared at the person he thought he knew, at loss for words. One of his most important people had snapped, lost his mind in a fit of insanity and was holding a gun, aiming at him. There had to be a reason for this. There had to be. Changmin could not believe that the caring Yunho he knew would be able to use violence against anyone. Much less for hitting him.  
  
  
Finally, his anger won over his confusion and he exploded: “What the fuck are you doing Hyung?”  
  
  
Even though Yunho’s eyes betrayed his panic but also… excitement?, he snorted. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?”  
  
  
“You’re… but… A fucking hold-up? Why? Do you need money that much?”  
  
  
“Well, money is generally what you’re after when robbing a bank.”  
  
  
“I could’ve lent you some. There’re plenty of other solutions. And anyway, you could’ve…” Changmin stopped, letting out an annoyed sigh, and muttered: “left too.”  
  
  
“I could’ve what? You don’t have enough money to lend me and anyway, there is no time for talking. I need a plan of escape.”  
  
  
“Even threatening the company would’ve been better than this. Wait a second. You don’t have a plan to escape?”  
  
  
Changmin angrily stepped closer, his legs shaking, quickly shortening the distance between him and Yunho, him and the gun that was now resting on his chest.  
  
  
“Are you fucking stupid? You’re not even wearing a hood! Did you even think? Wait, don’t respond to that one because you obviously didn’t.”  
  
  
Yunho’s face contorted to something akin to rage – an emotion Changmin had never seen coming from his Hyung, at least it had never been directed at him. He had never seriously hit him either though so he supposed he should just forget about past experiences.  
  
  
“Don’t patronise the guy with the gun! You’re supposedly clever so shut up and think of a fucking plan or I’ll shoot you.”  
  
  
Changmin’s head felt as if it was compressed by wads of cotton, his chest too full of air, everything becoming more surreal with each passing second. He felt his anger almost wash away, replaced by deep confusion and uncertainty. He was _so_ going to wake up in the next few minutes in his bed, safe from all the crazy.  
  
  
“Are you kidding? Just stop all this act, drop the gun and I’ll try to fix things. You haven’t done anything you’d regret yet.”  
  
  
“You don’t think I’m serious, do you? I’ll show you then.”  
  
  
Yunho shoved him, making him fall back a few steps, his chest burning where Yunho’s hand had pushed. He heard the click of the gun safety being lifted. His gaze flew to the gun and he saw its aim shifting to his left.  
  
  
Yunho fired.  
  
  
Changmin swirled around in time to see Go Hye-mi’s body slump, as if in slow motion, to one side, her eyes wide open, her mouth uttering one last gasp, blood running down her face from the gaping hole in the middle of her forehead that her pretty bangs did not cover completely.  
  
  
Changmin’s hands tightened into fists. His hope that everything would be okay left him for good; this was either a dream or they were very fucking much screwed. Since his nose hurt a lot and he could feel the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, he was leaning on the very fucking much screwed side. As if fate was agreeing with him, the phone rang.  
  
  
Yunho swore, racking his hand through his hair, lowering the gun a few inches, “The cops. What should I ask for? Fuck.”  
  
  
“You’ve killed someone. They won’t let you get off easily,” Changmin said, his eyes alternating between staring at the gun and at Yunho’s face.  
  
  
The phone rang again.  
  
  
“Yeah, thanks for the info, Cap'tain Obvious. But I’ve got plenty of leverage, haven’t I? A cute little baby for instance,” said Yunho and Changmin couldn’t believe his ears or his eyes, witnessing how Yunho’s lips stretched into an awful smirk.  
  
  
Well, he hadn’t believed that Yunho could be capable of robbing a bank nor of killing, so he wasn’t exactly a good judge of character.  
  
  
But… Killed. As in killing a living person. He glanced back at the dead body. The others had distanced themselves from it. Of her. He could still see how her fingers had brushed her hair, how her teeth had been just a tad uneven, how her eyes had moved lively from staring at him and at the floor.  
  
  
Her eyes were still wide open but they were glazed over and her hair was now tangled, as if she were a doll thrown carelessly to the floor.  
  
  
Even though the proof was right in front of him, even though he had witnessed it all, he still couldn’t believe it.  
  
  
Yunho’s muttering snapped him out of his daze: “Anyway, I just have to buy enough time to escape somehow. Maybe going up. There has to be a way to go to the higher floors. And then… maybe from the roof, go to another building or something.”  
  
  
At the third ring, Yunho strode to the phone innocently sitting on one of the counters and answered. After a brief series of short answers –they probably were asking him if everyone was safe and he had had the nerve to respond a fucking _yes_ –, he asked for ludicrous stuff such as a helicopter and a ridiculously large amount of money.  
  
  
Well, stuff criminals normally demanded in films. Changmin also thought about how people –if one could consider a killer a person– generally did not get away with their crimes, in films. Right. So what did the hero usually do in those? Probably not simply stand there, useless, frozen on the spot.  
  
  
What was he supposed to do? Trying to make Yunho come to his senses seemed to be pointless now that the worst had happened. He just had to make sure everyone else would make it in one piece. That’s all. His teeth sunk into his lower lip. Could he really abandon Yunho though? But this wasn’t really the Yunho he knew anyway, was it?  
  
  
He watched as this man, this criminal made the old lady stand up, nearly pushing her all the way to the door.  
  
  
Yunho had agreed to release one person as proof of goodwill even though that would probably expose the fact that he had killed someone, which was a stupid move in Changmin’s opinion but yeah… whatever...  He had decided not to help Yu… this man.  
  
  
“So any brilliant idea my Dongsaeng? We’ve… like an hour, half an hour tops to get out of this.”  
  
  
Changmin just glared at him, still frozen in the same spot, when the words sunk at him. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”  
  
  
Yunho smirked – and Changmin was now definitively thinking that he had imagined the panic in the other man’s eyes earlier.  
  
  
“Did you think I’d leave you behind? And I need some sort of guarantee anyway. Would you prefer I take the baby instead?”  
  
  
Before Changmin could respond, the mother of said baby immediately half-shouted, half-sobbed, “No, anything but him! Anything but him.”  
  
  
“Really?”  
  
  
“Ok, take me, take me. Just… Don’t hurt them,” interrupted Changmin.  
  
  
This was his responsibility. He should have seen that Yunho would snap. He should have prevented all that from happening somehow. He should have been the one to have died instead of…  
  
  
Yunho took a few steps towards him, crowding Changmin’s personal space, the gun trained on his temple.  
  
  
“Great. Let’s get away then. I’m looking forward to some alone time with you.” Yunho’s breath ghosted on Changmin’s ear.  
  
  
And as suddenly as he had come close, Yunho stepped back. Changmin let out a breath he had not known he had been holding.  
  
  
“We should probably create some kind of confusion also.” Yunho turned towards the remaining employees. “Does anyone of you know a way out, up or whatever?”  
  
  
He raised his gun at them. “You better think and speak quickly. I’ll count up to five and kill the first one of you… starting by the left side. You, the creepy looking guy. Think, think.”  
  
  
He paused, glancing at Changmin. “You, you better start thinking about a way to create confusion. Tick, tack, tick, tack…” With each number he drawled out, he took a step closer to the employees. “Foouuuur…”  
  
  
Think Changmin. A film or a book plot where a distraction is created.  
  
  
“Wait, wait. I… Maybe I know a way,” said the third, and last, man from the left. “Without going through the main building entrance, your only option is to use the ventilation shafts.”  
  
  
“That’s a classic. A bit ridiculous. Are the shafts large enough? Is it really possible? We’re not in a film after all. Know that if you lie, I’m going to kill you in an agonisingly slow and painful way.”  
  
  
The employee gulped, wiping his hands on his pants, “I’m sure. I know it. Probably. I think. You just have to go to the back room and you’ll easily see the panel of the entrance of the shaft.”  
  
  
“That will have to do then.” Yunho turned toward Changmin, “Any brilliant idea?”  
  
  
Changmin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down –breathe in, breathe out– like before a concert except not. He had finally decided on his course of action. All of this would end up screwing his life anyway.  
  
  
“It depends on how attached you’re to the money?”

“Don’t beat around the bush. I’ll decide depending on how good the idea is.”  
  
  
“Well… You could just disguise someone as the criminal, making him carry all the money. Maybe making it seem as an inside job. Even though he’d deny, the police would have to make sure. Though I don’t know about the gun, it’d be suspicious if he didn’t carry one? Or maybe make everyone seem guilty, seem like a potential criminal? I’ve no idea about the cameras though.”  
  
  
“That’s your best idea?” Yunho stopped, seemingly thinking about it. “Well, the gun isn’t a problem.” He tapped one of the pockets of his coat. “Better to be prepared for any eventuality.”  
  
  
“And yet you forget about the exit plan?”  
  
  
Yunho looked at loss for a second but quickly took control of his emotions again. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”  
  
  
This struck Changmin as weird, since he remembered telling Yunho that he was going to the bank.  
  
  
“Let’s do it then. Changmin, take the money over here. And you, the one with the ventilation shaft idea, get up.”  
  
  
Yunho emptied his gun of all the bullets to hide it on the employee. He took the other –loaded– gun he had cautiously carried in his coat and pointed it to another of the employee, who told him the location of the records of the cameras; in a computer in the back room only, apparently there was no Internet feed or anything complicated whatsoever.  
  
  
There was no time to check whether this was true or not but Yunho seemed strangely not bothered about his identity being revealed.  
  
  
The bags full of money were split among all the hostages, though not before Yunho had taken a few stacks and stuffed them deeply into his pockets.  
  
  
Meanwhile, Changmin broke all the computers he had found in the back room, smashing them hard against the floor with the force of his frustration, and prepared the ventilation shaft.  
  
  
They – yes, they, Changmin couldn’t believe he was actually kind of helping – gathered everyone near the back to buy time, which was so very little, the few minutes it would take the hostages to reach the door and go out.  
  
Then, before he knew it, Changmin was crawling on all fours, up in the ventilation shaft –shoeless so it would be easier to push himself forward– in front of Yunho, who was putting the shaft’s panel back on.  
  
  
Thankfully there was enough light to manage with only stubbed toes. The shaft went on for a small stretch and then there was an intersection; one stretch went up, forty-five degrees, and another went right.  
  
  
“Let’s go up then,” said Yunho, “and see if we can get out of here. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the view but this is a bit narrow.”  
  
  
Changmin could hear the disgusting… lust in the guy’s voice, which sent shivers all down to his spine.  
  
  
A few minutes of hard work later –he could feel how sweat ran down his neck and his face, making his fringe stick to his forehead– he was relieved to hear voices. He guessed they had arrived to some offices.  
  
  
Not for the first time in his life but probably with the most desperation ever, he felt envious of those people who led uneventful boring ordinary lives.  
  
  
He let out a sigh as they went on until they found an exit that would lead to an empty room, a storage room to be precise.  
  
  
Thankfully there were boxes piled up high underneath the shaft so the landing was not too painful, but Changmin twisted his left ankle, the pain making him miss the opportunity to steal the gun as Yunho was distracted, going down the boxes.  
  
  
Changmin closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to hold in the pain. He could not show any weakness.  
  
“There’re some janitor uniforms. We may have a chance of escaping,” but just as those words left Yunho’s mouth, an authoritarian voice was heard asking about whether the employees had witnessed any suspicious acts. They heard how the building was surrounded. There was no way out of this. Well, that had been Changmin’s plan, hadn’t it?  
  
  
“Help me. Quick!” said Yunho, as he slid heavy boxes to block the door.  
  
  
“What are you doing? You’re screwed anyway.”  
  
  
“I’m buying time.” He wiped his forehead, the final box in place.  
  
  
He turned around, staring straight at Changmin’s eyes, gun pointed at him again, “And it’s you that’s screwed.”  
  
  
Changmin’s confusion had to be visible on his face because Yunho let out a short laugh.  
  
  
“You still haven’t caught on? Let’s be explicit then.” He waved the gun. “Strip.”  
  
  
There were a few seconds of shocked silence.  
  
  
“The fuck?” Changmin’s mind was reeling.  
  
  
“Take your clothes off or I’ll take them off for you.” Yunho’s face turned thoughtful. He pocketed his gun, but the relief lasted a few seconds as he took out a small butterfly knife instead. “That’s not a bad idea actually. But I better switch weapons. We wouldn’t want any policemen barging in here, would we?”  
  
  
That should have been Changmin’s cue to start screaming but, with the boxes blocking his salvation, he would be killed before anyone could help him.  
  
  
“You’re not serious.”  
  
  
“Oh yes, I’m very serious.”  
  
  
Yunho slowly walked closer, twirling the knife, as Changmin took a few steps back until his back collided with the cold wall.  
  
  
He was going to close his eyes and when he opened them he would be at the counter, talking to the cute employee because none of this was really happening. He counted to three, his eyes fluttering open once again.  
  
  
But no. Everything was still the same, or even worse, as Yunho was now leaning so very close, his lips inches apart from Changmin’s, the knife lightly pressed on Changmin’s throat.  
  
  
“I’ve always wanted to do that, you know.” Yunho’s left hand pulled on Changmin’s scarf, tightening it around Changmin’s throat. Pulling it toward himself, he drew Changmin closer, his lips delivering an unnerving chaste kiss.  
  
  
Changmin could only hear the sound of his blood rushing past his ears, his mind losing grip on reality.  
  
  
He felt the knife cut into his throat and his senses sharpened again. He bit Yunho’s lips, drawing blood, and his hands shot up to grab the knife but Yunho was quick to react and kicked Changmin’s hurt ankle.  
  
  
Changmin fell to the ground with a grunt, his hands flying to his ankle as his vision filled with small white dancing spots.  
  
  
Yunho swept the blood from his lips with his wrist. Seeing red on it, he kicked Changmin in the stomach. “Don’t bite me ever again. You hear me?”  
  
  
Changmin could only groan in pain.  
  
  
“Since you like kinky stuff, should I tie you up then?” He crouched down and brushed Changmin’s bangs aside in a parody of kindness.  
  
  
Changmin’s heart crumbled a bit more.  
  
  
“Did I hurt you maybe? Oh poor sweetie. I should probably make you more comfortable. Let me help.”  
  
  
Knife between his teeth, he pushed him on his back and started to unbutton Changmin’s coat, prying Changmin’s hands off his ankle to slowly take it off, revealing a green sweater.  
  
  
Changmin’s head was swimming. His hands that tried to stop the invasion were quickly trapped together and tied over his head with his own scarf.  
  
  
“Stop it! What are you doing?”  
  
  
Maybe being killed would not have been so bad compared to the current madness. The knife was back on his throat though and Changmin lost his voice.  
  
  
Yunho swung his right leg over Changmin, now sitting on his waist. He slowly lowered himself, his breath hovering over Changmin’s right ear.  
  
  
“Shhhhh… Don’t you see this is a magic moment?”  
  
  
Changmin gasped when he felt Yunho’s hand snake under his sweater, cold fingers stroking his skin. The caresses were shy at first as they went up, but then they became bolder as they went down again, stopping to Changmin’s trouser zipper.  
  
  
Changmin frantically tried to untie his hands, feeling the scarf loosen inch by inch agonisingly slowly.  
  
  
He felt Yunho’s tongue make a wet trail from underneath his ear to the bottom of his throat.  
  
  
He tried to focus on the scarf, his stare firmly fixed on the ceiling but he could not help shivering as he heard his zipper going down and a hand sliding under his underwear to… to… he could not believe it… to grasp his fucking cock.  
  
Awkwardly, Yunho started stroking him a tad bit forcefully.  
  
  
Changmin felt beyond disgusted that someone he had considered his brother could do such a thing to him. He tried to twist away but it only made the friction feel better despite the horror he felt and he could feel his cheeks grow hotter with shame as he felt himself harden.  
  
  
“I see you’re warming up to the idea,” said Yunho, increasing the pace.  
  
  
He raised his head to look right into Changmin’s eyes. Changmin tried to look away but he felt the knife bit into his skin. “Look at your Hyung.”  
  
  
Changmin felt his eyes sting. “This is wrong. Yunho.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Please.”  
  
  
Yunho chuckled. “Please what? Please fuck me?” He rubbed himself against Changmin, letting out a moan. “Alright.”  
  
  
Changmin could feel Yunho’s cock hard against his thigh.  
  
  
“No! Stop! You can’t do this.”  
  
  
However, Yunho was already lowering Changmin’s trousers and underwear to his feet, leaving his cock out in the open. He pushed Changmin’s legs open, applying pressure on the hurt ankle with his knee to maintain Changmin’s legs open.  
  
“Oh, yes I can and I will. Try to relax and enjoy.”  
  
  
Yunho spit on his fingers. Changmin grew more desperate, pulling his wrists against the fabric. But as two of Yunho’s fingers breached his hole, he stopped struggling, tensing from the pain, unable to breathe.  
  
  
“There isn’t much time so don’t make it difficult.”  
  
  
Yunho twisted his fingers, trying to open him up. And then as quickly as the sensation of fullness had invaded Changmin, he was left empty. He let out a shaky breath of relief but it was short lived as he heard another zipper being opened. He tensed again, feeling something push at his hole again. His back arched as a slow burning pain entered him, tears finally spilling on his cheeks.  
  
  
Yunho stopped when Changmin was filled to the brim, letting him adjust for a bit. His erection had died away and his cock lay limp between their two bodies.  
  
  
“This feels weird,” gasped Yunho. And Changmin felt a hysterical laugh bubble from his chest but refrained from letting it out, only half succeeding, as with each bit of air he breathe out, he could feel Yunho go deeper inside him.  
  
  
The pain had receded a bit and Changmin tried again to untie the scarf. It was becoming looser. Just a bit more. But his concentration was interrupted by the pain caused when Yunho started to move. He was slowly pulling out to push in, increasing his pace with each thrust, his belt hitting Changmin’s butt each time.  
  
  
Yunho’s hand forced Changmin’s head to face him and he slowed down for a second to kiss Changmin, his tongue sweeping inside of Changmin’s mouth briefly.  
  
  
He thrust once more and stopped once he was tightly inside of Changmin, tensing as he filled Changmin with his come.  
  
  
He grunted and collapsed on top of Changmin, the obscene plop echoing in Changmin’s ears when Yunho’s cock was pulled out of him.  
  
  
Changmin felt how the pressure of the knife weakened.  
  
  
Now or never, he thought.  
  
  
A rush of adrenaline coursed his veins for the second time this day and gave him the force to slacken what was left of the tie imprisoning his hands.  
  
  
He grabbed the gun that was in the coat that Yunho was still wearing and pressed it against Yunho’s chest.  
  
  
He felt blood rush out of his neck but he did not care. All he could see was her dead gaze asking him why he had not stopped Yunho.  
  
  
He pulled the trigger.  
  
  
He witnessed how Yunho’s eyes widened before Yunho came crashing down on top of him. Hot blood soaked his sweater.  
  
  
He rolled Yunho off of him. His body fell on its back, the knife clanging against the floor as it escaped Yunho’s grip.  
  
  
Changmin could not tear his gaze away from Yunho’s blank stare. He could not seem to move as his mind denied what he was seeing.  
  
  
Finally, he dragged himself to Yunho’s body. His trembling hand found no pulse and his tears fell down on Yunho’s lips. His own pulse was rapidly quickening as he heard shouts from outside.  
  
  
Someone tried to open the door.  
  
  
Changmin pushed his and Yunho’s underwear and trousers up from their ankles. This was the only thing he could do to preserve a semblance of dignity, for both himself and Yunho.  
  
  
He threw a last glance at Yunho’s and his hand automatically shot up to wipe away the blood and tears that had pooled to the corner of Yunho’s lips. His hand came back excessively sticky.  
  
  
Maybe he had wiped a bit too forcefully. Though, however forceful you wiped someone’s face could in no way explain why not only blood and tears were coming off, but part of Yunho’s skin. Now that Changmin looked more carefully at Yunho’s face, it seemed to him that the skin was melting away.  
  
  
Far away removed from reality –he had felt as if his feet had slipped from the floor a long time ago– he decided to pull at the skin.  
  
  
A thick layer of fat came away revealing a new face: soft lips and round cheeks. Dead eyes he had already seen before.  
  
  
“A… a girl?” He had not time to process the new revelation as the door was torn open, a flashlight blinding him as he stood up and turned around, covered in blood, part of Yunho’s face still in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now Yunho has to pick up the pieces.

Yunho was sitting on the sofa at their flat and had been going over their schedule for the next month with their manager Dong Chang for, what had seemed to Yunho, forever.  
  
  
To his relief, they were almost finished –they just had to clarify a few more details; Dong Chang hyung had always been very thorough– and Yunho leaned against the sofa, checking his wristwatch.

  
“Shouldn’t Changmin be back already?”

  
“Well, he said he might be a bit late. I wouldn’t worry,” answered Dong Chang. “Let’s focus on the schedule for a few more minutes, shall we?” 

  
Yunho sighed, absentmindedly looking at the television that had been playing mute in front of them. His brow furrowed and he unconsciously leaned forward.

  
“Can you pass me the remote, Hyung? It’s on your left,” asked Yunho, never detaching his gaze from the screen.

  
“Why? What’s wrong?” asked Dong Chang, giving him the remote, while turning his head to take a look at the television. “Isn’t that near here? Where Changmin’s…”

  
On the screen, a few people were running out of a bank holding stacks of money in their hands high above their heads while the police encircled them to proceed to their arrests. Strangely, those people did not seem to resist but seemed rather relieved. A female off-voice narrated: 

  
“This morning, a hold-up was committed at the Shinhan Bank’s branch office that resulted in two deaths…”

  
Yunho got up and stepped closer to the television, holding his breath.

  
“…the police forces had been at a loss on the course of action as the demands of the criminal were impossible to fulfill when suddenly the hostages came out running while holding large amounts of money. This was thought to be a strategy of the criminal so as to mingle with the hostages and run away. However, it was in fact a decoy to produce confusion and allow the criminal to escape through a ventilation shaft.”

  
The screen showed two stretchers, both covered by red blankets being brought to the ambulances. 

  
“The only casualty was a 25 year-old female employee who was shot in the head...”

  
Air rushed out from his lungs as he felt relief flood his mind, though not without a tiny hint of guilt for feeling good at someone’s else’s death.

  
“ ...The weapon was found on one of the employees who is still at the moment being interrogated as a possible accomplice. The criminal was found dead on a higher floor of the same building. The circumstances of his death are still unclear though a suspect was found at the scene of the crime. The sum…”

  
That was definitively Changmin’s bank office. Even though the only victim had been a female, Changmin had been there and had maybe been a hostage too. There had only... well, there had been one casualty but they had not said anything about people who might have been injured.  
  
  
Yunho took his mobile phone out of his jeans back pocket and had to try twice to dial the right numbers only to finally hear the annoying female voice of the answering machine.

  
Yunho hang up, nearly throwing his phone away when Dong Chang caught his eye. He had decided to call the police and the grim set of his features only confirmed Yunho’s fear.  
  
  
His nod and the gesture towards the car keys caused Yunho’s vision to become blurry for a second; his legs felt suddenly cotton-like. As he shook his head, his vision cleared and his legs seemed to solidify. They felt more like wobbly pudding.

  
“He’s at An Sae Hospital. Let’s go.”

  
“At a...”  Yunho’s windpipe closed again, words getting stuck in his throat. “How is he?”

  
“They wouldn’t tell me over the phone,” and seeing the way Yunho’s hand was gripping the back of the sofa, Dong Chang added, “give me the keys. I’ll drive.”  
  


  
º

  
Yunho wished the car would go faster, that Dong Chang would not drive so carefully.  
  
  
The voice of the radio reporter was going over and over the same facts about the bank robbery –  
 _a 25 year-old female employee.... possible accomplice.... circumstances of death unclear..._ – Yunho turned it off in annoyance and the rest of the journey was made in an uneasy silence.

  
At the sight of the many journalists waiting like vultures at the hospital entrance, Yunho adjusted his sunglasses and his beanie.  
  
  
It was a futile precaution though; one of the journalists caught sight of him. She did not recognize him instantly. Her nose, red from the cold, had been scrunched but then it smoothed over and a determined smile flashed on her lips –quickly hidden by an appropriately serious expression– when she finally pinpointed his identity.  
  
  
Yunho hid behind Dong Chang but the damage was done and the journalist rushed to his side. He could see her brain working quickly, assuming the worst cases –the most profitable cases– scenarios.

  
“Aren’t you Yunho U-know from TVXQ? What brings you here? I don’t see your band mate? Was he perhaps involved in the bank robbery incident?”

  
Dong Chang cut her short: “We’re indeed here to see Changmin; however it is a completely unrelated matter. He hurt himself during practice.” He smiled. “The fans can feel at ease. It’s only a minor injury that will not impede the completion of DBSK’s schedule. Now if you please...”

  
Unwillingly, the journalist, even though she did not seem convinced, let them go: “I hope his recovery will be quick and painless.” 

  
Yunho nodded in thanks and they finally entered the hospital.  The hot air inside made him feel worse, stifled. He proceeded to take his scarf and beanie off and followed Dong Chang to the counter where they asked for information about Changmin.  
  
  
They were told that the patient had only minor injuries and was awake in room number 23 though he could not yet receive any visit so if they could please wait here.

  
“If he’s awake and has only minor injuries, why can’t we see him?” asked Yunho, pushing his sunglasses up so he could stare at the nurse.

  
“The police are speaking with all the witnesses of the robbery. I’m sorry but we can’t let you see him yet.” 

  
That didn’t stop Yunho – Dong Chang at his heels – to go straight to room number 23. He took a deep breath and pushed the door, or at least tried to, but the door was locked (in what world did hospital doors lock anyway?!) and the blinds were drawn.  
  
  
Dong Chang shrugged and sat down on one of the green chairs that were scattered throughout the hallway, patting at the one next to him.

  
“We should calmly wait. You heard the nurse. He has only minor injuries. I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.” Dong Chang smirked, “And he’ll kill me if I let you worry about him and start to fuss.”

  
Yunho let himself fall on the seat; a worried frown still etched on his face.  
  
  
Dong Chang patted him on the back. His “don’t worry” wasn’t really effective. He rubbed his chest. It felt like it could explode at any time.

  
The door opened and two men dressed in black suits –they looked nothing like policemen– came out of the room. A third man, the doctor probably, stayed on the doorsill, looking profoundly displeased as they were quickly making their way down the hallway.  
  
  
When they were out of sight, the doctor’s gaze fell on Yunho –who had hurriedly stood up– and Dong Chang.

  
“You’re here for Mr Shim I suppose?” he asked, letting the door close as he came to stand in front of them.

  
“Yes. I’m his manager. How is he?”

  
“We’ve had troubles contacting his family.”

  
“I’ll contact them immediately,” Dong Chang assured before catching Yunho’s worried eyes, “but could we have some information on Changmin’s current state?”  


  
“Please.”  

  
The conflicted look of the doctor softened at Yunho’s plea, “Mr Shim is mostly alright. He seems to be a bit confused. This is probably due to the shock caused by the events and his head sustaining an injury. He also has a sprained ankle that will take more or less two weeks to heal if he uses crutch and avoids any type of exercise. He is now with our counsellor.” 

  
He paused, hesitating yet looking straight at Yunho.    
  
  
A few seconds passed –an eternity for Yunho as he was waiting for a “but” that would shatter his illusion that Changmin was, more or less, fine– and the doctor finally talked the few words Yunho wanted to hear most: “If you could please patient for a while more, you’ll be able to see him later.”

  
The wait also felt like an eternity; it had only been half an hour though. Yunho had been left alone as their manager had to contact Changmin’s family and rearrange –cancel half of it at least– their schedule for the week.  
  
  
Yunho stepped into the room, his gaze immediately falling on the figure half-lying, half-sitting in the bed. He could only see the back of Changmin’s head as Changmin was absorbed in the contemplation of the outside world.

  
He stepped forward until he stood at Changmin’s feet. Still no sign of acknowledgement. “Changminnie?”

  
This seemed to startle Changmin as he quickly turned his head to face Yunho.  
  
  
Yunho managed to stop himself from gasping as he saw Changmin’s bruised face, his contused nose and temple, an IV drip attached to his arm. Most of his shock, however, came from the bluish marks on his throat, one side partially hidden underneath gauze.  
  
  
Changmin stared at his face, as if transfixed, but his troubled look disappeared and his lips stretched upwards, approximating a reassuring smile.

  
“Hyung, don’t look so worried. Half of it is much less painful than it looks.” His voice was hoarse and unsteady to Yunho’s ears. Changmin sighed. “See what happens when I try to be a hero.”

  
“I think all heroes end up in hospitals on their off days. I don’t see why you’d be the exception. How are you feeling?” 

  
“As if I’d been trampled by an elephant, the usual stuff for us heroes.”

  
Yunho was happy to see Changmin’s smile become more sincere, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  
  
  
He took a few steps to sit on the bed but Changmin’s recoil startled him. Changmin’s eyes were wide open as he had instinctively ducked behind his left arm, nearly ripping out his IV drip.  
  
  
Yunho stood up, uneasiness spreading in his chest as he saw the bruises on his wrist.

  
“Changmin?”

  
Changmin shook his head, his arm falling on his lap in an attempt to cover it with a blanket.  
  
  
Changmin seemed as startled as Yunho was and he looked away, firmly setting his gaze once more on the window. “I... Sorry.”

  
“Whatever for? What happened exactly?” Yunho’s hand hovered towards Changmin’s shoulder, wanting to comfort him, but he let it drop, clenching his fist at Changmin’s silence. 

  
Well, he had been the victim of violence. Maybe he had been held at gunpoint, maybe he had even seen the casualty mentioned on the news be killed! Of course he’d be rattled and skittish. He may even feel guilty.  
  
  
“It’s not your fault you know. Sometimes, bad stuff happens. Do you want to talk about it?”

  
“I guess I’m still... not realizing what happened. It feels unreal.”  
  
  
He turned to look straight at Yunho, shocking him by the intensity of his gaze, “I’ll be fine, though.” More than a statement, it sounded like a decision of a very stubborn person.

  
“You know it’s alright if you’re not ok, right? Dong Chang hyung has cancelled most of your schedule so you can rest and your family should be here soon.”

  
“No!” Changmin seemed as startled as Yunho by his vehement protest. “I mean... I’ll feel fine in no time and the make-up noonas always do a fine job at covering a few bruises." He sighed. "There is no need for my family to come. No need to worry anyone.”

  
“Changmin, that’s not reasonable. You do remember you have a sprained ankle. And of course, we all worry about you.”

  
Changmin scoffed, “Not everyone does.”

  
“What do you...” but Yunho was interrupted by a nurse coming in. The time for the visit was up. 

  
“Don’t think this conversation is finished.” Changmin ignored him, staring at the window again. “Anyway... Rest well. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. You’re sure you don’t need anything?”

  
“Mm.”

  
“Ok, see you then,” Yunho said, attempting to elicit a worded response but Changmin had already stopped listening.

  
  
º

  
  
Changmin was still looking at the window when Yunho came back the next day; however, he was sitting on the edge of the bed dressed with the clothes their manager had brought him. There was no IV drip attached to his arm anymore but a pair of crutches was resting next to him on the bed.  
  
  
Yunho let the door close to make Changmin aware of his presence. Changmin’s shoulders twitched slightly but he remained seated, his back towards Yunho.

  
“They’re letting you go home?”

  
Changmin sighed, but he straightened his back. He grabbed hold of the crutches, standing up on his right leg, his left leg bent so his feet didn’t touch the floor. He turned around to face him, “hyung.”

  
Yunho had decided that he would not push him. Changmin would open up eventually, wouldn’t he? He just had to be there, ready when that happened. He smiled, “Yeah?”

  
“I... Yesterday...” Changmin bit his lower lip.

  
“Don’t worry. Are you ready to go? Do you need to wait for the doctor or something?”

  
“I... No, I mean, yes I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  
Yunho handed him sunglasses and a beanie. “There are quite a lot of reporters outside.”  
  
  
Changmin took them, carefully avoided touching Yunho’s hands. He stood up in equilibrium as he awkwardly adjusted the beanie to cover his bruised temple, having refused any help.  
  
  
A woman entered the room. She nodded at Yunho and turned to Changmin. She stretched her arm towards him, her hand holding what looked like a business card.

  
“For when you want to talk.” Changmin made no movement to collect the card. “You will need to, someday.” 

  
She handed it to Yunho who took it with both hands, briefly glanced at the writing –the words _counsellor_ and _psychiatrist_ were on it _–_ before putting it in his coat pocket.  
  
  
She nodded at Yunho again and left after a small _take care_.

  
Yunho raised a questioning eyebrow at Changmin, but he avoided his gaze.  
  
  
Wordlessly, Changmin left the room, or tried to; he had trouble opening the door while holding onto the crutches. Yunho opened it and feigned not seeing Changmin’s frustrated expression.  
  
  
Changmin mumbled thanks and went through the door with Yunho following closely.

  
“Aren’t we taking your clothes?”  
  
  
Yunho had seen the clothes Changmin wore during the attack on a chair with one of Changmin’s favourite scarfs neatly folded on the top.  
  
  
Changmin shook his head and hurried his pace though he slowed down in hesitation at the sight of the group of fans and reporters waiting outside the exit doors.  
  
  
Yunho’s hand went automatically to Changmin’s lower back, pushing him softly. He frowned at Changmin who tensed under his touch. “Dong Chang Hyung is waiting for us in the car, he’s just outside.”

  
The automatic doors slid open and they stepped outside to be bombarded by shouts of ‘Changmin get well!’ from the fans and by journalists’ questions –even some from newspapers and TV-channels that were not usually interested in the whereabouts of idols– about Changmin’s involvement in the hold-up.  
  
  
Changmin froze causing Yunho to nearly collide into him. His sunglasses hid half of his face but Yunho could feel his shaking body from where the tip of his fingers made contact with his lower back.  
  
  
Yunho took hold of his waist to gently push him towards the waiting car while declaring that Changmin was mostly fine and that he just needed some rest so if they could please step aside.

  
Once safely inside the car, Changmin relaxed after leaning away from Yunho.  
  
  
What troubled Yunho wasn’t how Changmin put distance between them –after all Changmin wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of person and they had had their fair share of fights– but that he seemed to be doing it _unconsciously_. 

  
The ride home was spent in almost complete silence after the first few minutes in which their manager had explained their schedule.  
  
  
Apparently, since Changmin had insisted, they would go on as planned except, as Changmin obviously could not dance, they would perform mostly ballads in addition to Changmin simply standing at the edge of the stage while Yunho and the dancers would perform the choreographies when required.  
  
  
Yunho was not happy with Changmin’s lack of resting time, but Changmin had been very adamant on keeping on working.

  
  
º

  
The first day back at work had been strangely normal even though Changmin’s voice had been a bit raw, his eyes a bit too shiny, his make-up a bit too heavy, his clothes a bit too sweaty because of his buttoned sleeves and covering scarf.  
  
  
It was afterwards, when they were left the two alone in their flat that Yunho distinctively knew that their dynamics had shifted. And it made him feel uncomfortable.

  
“Changmin, what do you want to eat today?”

  
Changmin opened his eyes, looking at Yunho from his sprawled position on the sofa, his crutches neatly lying on the floor. “I don’t really care actually.”

  
“You sure?”

  
Changmin nodded. “I’m not that hungry either. Must be the medication.”

  
“Still, you should try to eat something.”

  
“Mm.”

  
Yunho opted for some ramyeon since it was easy to make and he didn’t fancy ordering take-out or wasting energy on cooking something.  
  
  
He placed the two steaming bowls and chopsticks on the small table in front of the couch.

  
“Come on; get your legs off the couch so I can sit.” Yunho’s tone betrayed his amusement. Changmin made no move.

  
“Too lazy. Get your own chair.”

  
Yunho chuckled. Changmin was already feeling better, it seemed.  
  
  
Yunho patted Changmin’s legs and was in the process of holding them to make himself some space when Changmin abruptly sat up, effectively kicking him out of the couch.

  
“Changmin, what the...” Yunho stood up and rubbed his right thigh that had absorbed all the weight of his fall. 

  
Changmin looked away at Yunho’s questioning stare, “ah... sorry.” And he scooted on the very edge of one of the corner of the couch. “There. You can sit now.”

  
Yunho raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Is there a hidden message? I’m not that fat, am I?” 

  
He sat down and patted the spot in-between them both.  
  
  
“Come on, you don’t need to sit on the edge, with half of your butt in the air.”

  
But Changmin looked away, pulling at his sleeves until they covered half of his hands. “I’m not really hungry. I think I’ll go to bed early.” He stretched to get a hold of his crutches.

  
Yunho frowned. “At least take a bite?”

  
Changmin held his crutches with one hand and grabbed his chopsticks with the other to slurp some noodles. He slid the chopsticks back on the table. “There. Ate. Good night.”

  
Yunho could only watch him wobble his way to his room, shutting the door behind him. 

  
º

  
It was always just some details but they kept adding up.  
  
  
Even though it didn’t really affect their work, it worried Yunho. Indeed, working Changmin did, even more than before as he spent his free time reading and studying in addition to the several vocal training sessions and, once his ankle was healed, the numerous dance rehearsals he had insisted on having added to his schedule.  
  
  
Yunho could only observe as Changmin’s sleeping time was gradually reduced.

  
Changmin seemed to be pent up on appearing fine, as if nothing had happened – he even _joked_ at his participation in the hold-up whenever he was asked about it on TV, and, to Yunho’s grief, he seemed determined on avoiding him.  
  
  
Yunho couldn’t remember the last time they had a conversation that lasted more than 10 minutes and wasn’t work related. Work-related conversations could, of course, go well over past those 10 minutes.

  
He sighed; checking himself in the mirror one last time, wishing that the photo-shoot would be over soon.  
  
  
A coordi-nuna appeared behind him in his reflection, startling him. He was going to playfully scold her about making him have a heart-attack but the frown on her face stopped him.  
  
  
He raised an eyebrow. She threw a glance in the direction of Changmin who was being photographed in cute poses.

  
“Is he on a diet or something?”

  
The question surprised Yunho. He forced himself to remember the last time they had a meal together and could only come up with the times the crew had teamed up into cornering Changmin to have a meal all together. “Not that I know of.”

“Well, if he is, do tell him to stop because I won’t have any more clothes for him to wear,” she replied. “No seriously. I know idols are pressured into being skinny but there _is_ a point when someone can become too skinny. Nuna is worried, ok?”  
  


“Ah, ok. I’ll try talking to him. He’s probably overdoing it again. You know how he is.”

  
“Thanks.” She smiled before she was called away. 

  
Yunho turned around to observe Changmin. It was true that he had lost some weight and that the trend of showing his chest had stopped in favour of covering him up, a trend that had started in order to cover the bruises but the bruises had now faded. Changmin should be back to normal, showing more skin, shouldn’t he? 

  
Yunho’s eyes followed the contour of Changmin’s body, noticing how skinny he had become. His gaze inadvertently landed on Changmin’s lips just as he licked them.  
  
  
He quickly looked up, locking gaze with Changmin’s questioning stare. Yunho shrugged and Changmin went back to doing silly poses for the photographer.

  
Changmin had finished so Yunho prepared himself for his solo shooting. He smiled at the photographer to signal he was ready, well, as ready he would ever be to make silly poses with a... stuffed  toy that had all the appearance of a pig.  
  
  
A sudden laughter, a laughter he didn’t hear enough, distracted him as he saw Kyuhyun enter the studio and throw himself at Changmin’s throat.  
  
  
Changmin seemed to welcome the hug, not shying away from the touch as he did with Yunho. He felt his chest clench, a spark of something akin to jealousy flaring up, but that couldn’t be right, could it?

  
º

  
Three in the morning. Yunho sighed as he slipped out of his bed. A glass of water might help.  
  
  
He couldn’t seem to sleep properly as he kept thinking about Changmin’s behaviour. He was at loss to what to do.  
  
  
He grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water. Taking a few sips, he made his way back to his room but came to a stop when he noticed that light was coming from underneath Changmin’s door.

  
He knocked on his door. When there was no response, he pushed it open sneaking a glance.  
  
  
His gaze landed on Changmin’s sleeping form. He was sitting on his bed, leaning against a cushion, the book in his lap threatening to fall from the slack grasp at any time.  
  
  
Yunho stepped inside and made his way to Changmin, carefully avoiding the scattered books lying on the floor.

  
They were all science fiction books. Yunho wanted to chuckle at Changmin’s fascination with supernatural stuff; his mind supplying him with the bittersweet memory of young Changmin talking to aliens whenever he felt lonely in Japan.  
  
  
His smile fell when he realized that maybe this sudden renewed interest in supernatural stories might be related to him feeling lonely again.

  
The glass of water safely on the nightstand, he carefully took the book –it had an English title, _Masque_ – away from Changmin’s grasp and rearranged the blanket covering him.  
  
  
Changmin’s posture looked a bit uncomfortable but if he moved him, he was bound to wake up. Yunho sighed and took away Changmin’s glasses to put them down next to the glass on the nightstand.

  
Satisfied with his work, he stopped to look at his sleeping face. It was the most peaceful face he had seen on Changmin since the hold-up.  
  
  
His hand came up to sweep away the few strands of hair that were falling into Changmin’s eyes. He let it hover over Changmin’s cheek.  
  
  
On a sudden impulse, he leaned down and kissed the corner of Changmin’s lips.

  
_ What was he doing? _

  
He took a step back, nearly falling from his sudden movement. He breathed deeply.  
  
  
He had been feeling more protective after the hold-up incident but he had put it on the account of guilt, of not having been there to help Changmin. He was reminded of the feelings of jealousy he had felt earlier. He had felt hurt that Changmin was pushing him away, pushing him away much more than anyone else.  
  
  
His train of thoughts was interrupted as Changmin shifted, something like a moan escaping his lips.

  
Yunho looked, really _looked_ , putting aside his feelings to be as objective as possible, and saw the arm being bigger than the forearm. He saw the elbow, the shoulder and the collarbone jutting out, all bones and no meat. He saw the hollow cheeks, the paleness of the skin, the dark circle underneath the eyes not covered by make-up and the hair falling out on Changmin’s pillow.  
  
  
Anxiety spread through his chest.

  
_ Why can’t you tell me what really happened to you? Why aren’t you talking to me anymore? Aren’t we friends?  _

  
“Yunho? What are you doing in my room? What time is it?” Changmin had woken up and sprung from his bed, knocking the blanket away.

  
Yunho had been muttering without knowing it but he didn’t care as he could only stare at Changmin’s skinny waist, his lack of thighs more apparent now that he was only wearing boxers.

  
Changmin followed his gaze and quickly crouched down to cover his legs with the discarded blanket.

  
“Changmin...” Yunho stopped, uncertain on how to ask.

  
“What?” Changmin stared at him, daring him to ask while at the same time silently begging him to ignore the obvious problem.

  
“This... can’t go any longer. You have to talk to me. And if it’s not me, then someone else. This is not healthy,” Yunho realized that his voice had wavered.

  
“It’s my life. I’ll do whatever I want, so don’t meddle,” Changmin answered dryly. 

  
This ignited a spark of anger in Yunho. “You’re part of my life and a damn important one! I can’t stand by and let you destroy yourself! Can’t you see I care about you and seeing you hurt will only hurt me?”

  
Changmin turned away. “Then stop caring.”

  
“Changmin!” Yunho took a few steps forward, his hand falling on one of Changmin’s shoulders.

  
“Don’t touch me!” Changmin had slapped his hand away.  
  
  
He quickly stood up, letting the blanket fall away again , and went past Yunho to go straight into the bathroom . 

  
Yunho followed him but he heard the bathroom door being locked. Still, he tried opening the door.  
  
  
“Changmin, open up, please.” Yunho leaned on the door and whispered against the door, “I just want to help you.”

  
He pressed his ear to the door but he couldn’t hear anything. His eyes were starting to burn. He needed time to think and he supposed Changmin needed some time too. 

  
“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he hesitated before adding, “I’ll _always_ be there for you so...” 

  
The ordinary and healthy Changmin would have hit him for saying something so mushy but it had been a while, maybe even before the hold-up, that he hadn’t felt that Changmin was truly ok. Maybe he needed the help of... Yeah, he had to think some more.

  
  


  
º

 

It was two days after, two days filled with awkward silences and Changmin avoiding him, that he found Changmin asleep tightly curled up on the floor of the living room.  
  
  
His mobile phone was in pieces, lying broken a few inches away from his feet. His fist, tightly clenched, held a small piece of wrinkled paper.  
  
  
Yunho slowly slipped the paper out of Changmin’s hand without waking him and unfolded it. He was surprised to read the same few words he had already encountered once before: _counsellor, psychiatrist._  
  
  
Months ago, he had left the card in Changmin’s room, on  
his desk, while Changmin had been out on one of his vocal training sessions.

  
He picked up the pieces of Changmin’s phone and put it back together. He tried to turn it on.  
  
  
Surprisingly, it worked and the melody of the phone woke Changmin up. He looked at Yunho, confusion written all over his face until he saw the card and his phone in Yunho’s hands.  
  
  
Colour drained from his face and he quickly stood up to grab his possessions but the sudden change of position left him visibly dizzy and he swayed. He held on to Yunho’s chest to steady himself.  
  
  
Once Changmin felt alright and had quickly taken his hands away from his body, Yunho, lips in a tight line, handed him the phone and the card.  
  
  
Changmin hesitated and then swiftly took both of the objects to hide them in his pocket.

“I... I’m going to take a shower,” Changmin muttered, unable to look at Yunho, and rushed towards the bathroom, the door slamming shut.

  
Yunho felt tired. He rubbed his closed eyes, his decision now taken. He made his way to his room and sat down on his bed. He took a deep breath and opened the drawer of his nightstand. He rummaged for a few seconds before finding a little scrapbook. He picked it up and a small sheet of paper fell down from it.  
  
  
The sheet seemed old and worn out, as if it had been handled many times. He looked at it for a while, still unsure, but he reminded himself that it was worth it.

  
He picked the sheet up and took his phone out of his pocket to dial the string of numbers that were messily scrawled on his small piece of hope.  
  
  
He closed his eyes, his heart beating quickly in his ears as he heard the first ring, hoping that someone would pick up but at the same time hoping that someone _wouldn’t_ pick up. The second ring. Then, the third ring.  
  
  


“Hello?”

  
Yunho couldn’t make his throat work.

  
“Hello? Who is it?”

  
Yunho let out a shaky breath.

  
“Is this a prank? I’m hanging up.”

  
“Ah, no, wait!” his grip on the phone tightened, “It’s Yunho.”

  
The silence was now at the opposite end of the line.  
  
  
Yunho worked up his courage. “I know it’s been a while but... I wondered...” He couldn’t find any suitable words. _I wondered if you could help me with Changmin so he doesn’t starve to death._ Too abrupt for the first phone call after months of silence.

  
“Yunho. That’s a surprise.”

  
“Yeah, I... It’s been a while.”

  
“That’s one way of putting it. What do you want?”

  
“Just... to talk.”

  
A (bitter) laugh was heard. “It’s never as simple, is it? Whom do you want to talk to? Should I put Jaejoong on?”

  
“I... No, I want to talk with you. It’s about Changmin.”

 “What about him?” Yoochun sighed, however, his voice had betrayed a hint of worry. After all, why should Yunho call after so much time if it wasn’t serious.

  
“Have you heard about the hold-up incident a few months ago?”

  
“Ah... Yeah, vaguely.”

  
Liar, thought Yunho. “Well, to put it bluntly, I think Changmin is struggling. He needs some help coping with it.”

  
“Aren’t you enough? Anyway, I’m sure there are plenty of counsellors in the world for that.”

  
“As you can imagine, Changmin is not very cooperative and he...” Yunho sighed. “He’s avoiding me. I don’t know what to do anymore. Yoochun...” Yunho’s voice was starting to crack.

  
“Yeah?” Yoochun now sounded openly worried.

  
“I’m afraid he’s going to do something really stupid.”

  
“Stupid as in?”

  
“Don’t make me say it.”

  
Yoochun breathed into the phone, “Is it that serious?”

  
“Yeah,” Yunho couldn’t hide from his voice the defeat he felt so deeply, “just... look at some pictures on the Internet.”

  
“Wait a second.”

  
Yunho heard some shuffling and then the sound of a computer being turned on.

  
“I’m back”, said Yoochun, “can you explain a bit?”

  
Yunho felt some relief though he scolded himself for feeling it. “What do you know about the hold-up?”

  
“Mmm... Just the facts. That Changmin was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that he was taken hostage and a bit hurt but nothing really serious.”

  
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what the doctor told me too. But... There were some bruises that just don’t make much sense. And he probably witnessed someone being killed or I don’t know,” Yunho stopped, searching for words, “I think he’s feeling guilty about that for some reasons but I can’t get anything out of him.”

  
“What... Do you mean he hasn’t talked about it with you at all?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“That’s... Wait a sec, I’m opening a browser.” Yunho heard some muttering, “What about the bruises?”

  
“Huh? Ah, yeah, he had, you know, weird bruises on his neck and on his wrists as if he had been tied.”

  
“But that’s quite normal, to be tied, in a hold-up, I guess?

  
“Yeah, but the neck?”

  
Silence. Some clicking noise. And then a startled gasp.  
  
  
“What the...?”

  
“Yoochun?”

  
“That’s really bad. He’s like a walking stick! How come no one has done anything yet?”

  
“I... We were busy.”

  
“Damn it Yunho!”

  
“I know. I have no excuse.” Yunho sighed, “Will you help?” At Yoochun’s silence, he added, “please?”

  
“I’ll talk with Jaejoong and Junsu.”

  
“Yoochun.”

  
“What?”

  
“Thanks.” Yunho didn’t wait for a reply as he hang up, his heart and head a mess.

  
º

 

  
The next day a message informed Yunho if it would be alright to come and visit their flat the same day, in the evening.  
  
  
As the evening approached, Yunho grew more tense, tense enough for Changmin to notice. He had messed up a lot during the dance rehearsal, enough for Changmin to throw him two or three annoyed glances and for their trainer to call it a day.

  
Back home, Yunho had tried to make Changmin eat something but he had received his fourth annoyed glare of the day before Changmin retreated to his room to study.  
  
  
Yunho looked at his wristwatch. Two more hours. They passed painfully slowly and, yet, they were still too quickly gone as Yunho felt he would never be prepared enough.  
  
  
Indeed, he was not. He jumped from the shock of hearing his phone ring.

  
“We’re downstairs.” And then they were in the living room. All four at loss to what to say.

  
“Something to drink?” Yunho asked finally, not knowing where –whom– to look.

  
“Skip the formalities. Where’s Changmin?” answered Jaejoong with some dryness.

  
“In his room. But what’s the plan?” Yunho’s anxiety hit the roof. _And if it didn’t work?_

  
“Talking would be good, I guess,” said Jaejoong.

  
Yoochun nodded, “but the three of us at the same time would probably be too much.”

  
“Who goes first then?” Junsu asked, finally speaking.

  
“I see that everyone is anxious to see me. What the fuck is going on here?”

  
Yunho nearly jumped out of his skin. “Changmin!” 

  
Indeed, Changmin was standing in the living room doorway. He had obviously been interrupted in his reading, as his glasses were resting on his nose.  
  
  
The loose shirt and sport trousers he wore to hide his thinness did nothing else but precisely accentuate his emaciated figure as he seemed engulfed by the fabric.

  
Junsu gasped at the sight. “What happened to you?”

  
Changmin shifted uncomfortably. “ It’s none of your business .”  
  
  
He turned to Yunho and threw a betrayed glare, “What is going on? What were you thinking inviting them here? They have no right to be here anymore.”

  
Yunho stepped back, nearly falling as his legs hit the back of the couch.

  
Jaejoong stepped in, “The hell Changmin! Yunho just wants to help.”

  
“He should mind his own business and so should you,”  
  
  
Changmin turned on his heels but Jaejoong’s hand on his elbow stopped him from storming out. Changmin slapped his hand away, shouting, “don’t touch me!”

  
He breathed harshly. “You weren’t there these past years. Don’t try to swoop in last minute to fix me.” Changmin’s voice cracked and his voice lowered. “There’s nothing to fix anyway.”

  
“Nothing to fix? Are you serious? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently?”

  
Changmin’s hands flew to his ears to cover them as he closed his eyes tightly, starting to hum.

  
“Changmin... Stop it with this childish behaviour! I know I was the one who first messed up our friendship but we’re two grown adults,” Jaejoong stopped uncertain, “I... it hurts me, us, to see you hurting”. 

  
Changmin snorted, a bitter smile on his lips.

  
That seemed to push Jaejoong’s patience over the edge as he grabbed Changmin’s wrists.  
  
  
“Listen to me...” But the wild look in Changmin’s eyes as they flew open cut him short.  
  
  
Changmin struggled to free his wrists but Jaejoong held on, not so surprised by the weakness of Changmin’s struggles but not yet understanding what was happening. “Changmin... what... calm down!”

  
Changmin didn’t seem to listen, nor even hear, as his eyes lost focus and he fell to his knees.  
  
  
Yunho urged Jaejoong to let go. Jaejoong did but immediately fell to the floor to cup Changmin’s face so Changmin would look straight at him.

  
“Changmin, hey, Changmin.” 

  
A flash of recognition passed through Changmin’s eyes before he closed them. Jaejoong let go of his face and Changmin’s head fell down into the crook of Jaejoong’s neck.  
  
  
Jaejoong could not believe what was happening as he felt Changmin’s tears roll down his neck, the ragged breath on his skin making him shiver. Jaejoong encircled him in an awkward hug.

  
“Changmin... What’s happening?”

  
“You left,” Changmin mumbled through his tears, “You fucking left me.” 

  
Jaejoong, at loss for words, tightened his hold.

  
“And then this happened and...” Changmin’s chest heaved, “And what am I supposed to do?”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone. They would know. She would know.” Changmin was whispered in his ear so no one else would hear except that Yunho could hear it clearly, “Yunho would be hurt. I don’t want him to be hurt again. And then _everyone_ would _know_ what happened to me, what I _did_. He would know. He can’t know.”

  
Jaejoong’s brow furrowed, “Why? Who are they? Who is she? What do you mean by ‘hurt’? What happened? Talk to me.”

  
“I can’t. I can’t.” Changmin’s breathing quickened.

  
Jaejoong sighed. He stroked Changmin’s hair, attempting to calm him. “It’s ok. You don’t have to. But you do know you’re hurting everyone with your behaviour, don’t you?”

Changmin took a few deep breaths and moved back to look at Jaejoong’s eyes. Jaejoong was taken aback by the hopelessness that shined in his tearful eyes. “I can’t.”

  
Changmin pushed Jaejoong away, making him fall backwards, as he stood up, forcefully wiping his tears away. “ _I_ am the one leaving this time.” 

  
“Chang...” Jaejoong tried to make Changmin look at him, to stop him from leaving but Changmin was avoiding all their gazes as he fled out of the room.  
  
  
Yoochun helped Jaejoong stand up as Junsu and Yunho ran to catch up with Changmin.  
  
  
They nearly caught up when they were separated by traffic lights, just across the street from their flat.  
  
  
Yunho could see Changmin running through the crowded street. He shouted Changmin’s name but Changmin didn’t acknowledge him.

  
Junsu and Yunho were in the middle of crossing the road when Yunho saw Changmin collapse, crumpling onto the floor.  
  
  
Random people were forming a small crowd around him when Junsu and Yunho reached Changmin.  
  
  
Junsu quickly took out his phone to call for an ambulance as Yunho kneeled near Changmin, shaking his shoulders frantically.

  
º

  
Malnourished and exhausted, the doctor had said. Anorexia, he had explained.  
  
  
Yunho was sitting down on one of those ugly green chairs again, hunched over. The words of the doctor kept replaying in his head.  
  
  
Changmin had to be treated, but they could not do it against his will as he was over 18 and not yet in a critical state. They would make him stay for the night with an IV drip and make him see one of their counsellors, but that was all they could do until Changmin, himself, decided to seek help.

  
His throat closed. The smell of antiseptic had invaded his nose and made breathing difficult. Yunho stared at the floor, willing his eyes to stop stinging. 

  
“Jaejoong and Junsu are bullying the doctor.”

  
Yunho stared even harder.

  
“Your manager is helping.”

  
He tried hard not to blink, emotions threatening to spill.

  
Yoochun sighed. Yunho could feel him hesitating for a few seconds until he heard him take the few steps needed to stand by his side. A comforting hand came to rest on his shoulder.

  
“It’s not your fault.” 

  
Yunho closed his eyes tightly and felt a tear slide down his face to the corner of his mouth. He felt he should be angry, angry at Changmin for being stubborn, angry at Yoochun for saying those things that hit too close to home. He wanted to yell that _how would he know, he –they– hadn’t been there_ but more than anger, he felt exhausted. He felt powerless all over again.

  
Another tear slid down, slowly and silently. He lifted his head before it reached his chin and looked right at Yoochun. “Yoochun.”

  
Yoochun’s face switched from concerned to unsettled as he saw the wet tracks on Yunho’s cheeks. “Yunho…”

  
“What should I do?” His voice was hoarse, further revealing his distress. 

  
The sudden hug, the warmth of Yoochun’s arm around him took him by surprise. He felt himself unravel, the tears he had managed to hold back falling freely on the crook of Yoochun’s neck. “We’ll help.”

  
Something unlocked in Yunho’s chest, “I’ve missed you.”  
  
  
He wasn’t sure Yoochun could hear those few words mumbled into his skin. He hoped Yoochun’s hold tightening meant that he had. For a few minutes he let himself relax.

  
Hearing Junsu’s voice, Yunho pushed Yoochun away gently and dried his face with his sleeve, blinking quickly.

  
If Junsu, Jaejoong or his manager had noticed anything, they didn’t mention it. 

  
“Changmin has woken up. You should go and see him.” Dong Chang told Yunho as he stood up.

  
“Did…” Yunho cleared his throat. “Did the doctor say anything else?”

  
“Not really. He just recommended a few specialised clinics.” 

  
They had arrived at Changmin’s room.  
  
  
Dong Chang looked at Jaejoong, “I don’t think Changmin should see you three. He’s had enough for today.”

  
Junsu was about to protest but Jaejoong put a hand on his chest to stop him. He turned to look at Yunho. “Just keep us informed.”

  
Yunho nodded, catching Yoochun’s small smile as he turned away from them and pushed the door open. 

  
He would never get used to the sight of Changmin in a hospital bed, an IV attached to his arm.  
  
  
He was lying on the bed, his face as pale as the bed sheets. He seemed to be looking at the ceiling but his eyes were unfocused. He didn’t acknowledge Yunho’s presence.

  
Yunho sat on a chair next to the bed. He wanted to hug him, to hold him tight. He wanted to tell him that everything would be alright. Instead, he slowly grasped Changmin’s hand.

  
Changmin closed his eyes but didn’t move his hand away. Yunho stroked Changmin’s hand, making soothing circles with his thumb on his palm.  
  
  
After a while, Changmin’s breathing evened out, the gentle rise and fall of his chest indicating that he had fallen asleep.

  
“Everything is going to be fine.” 

  
Yunho wished he could believe that, the words sounding uncertain to his own ears.  
  


  
º

  
Yunho had gone home for the night, letting Changmin’s parents fuss over him.  
  
  
He was towelling his hair when the doorbell rang. It was a mail delivery, which was curious since all their mail usually went through their agency, just in case.

  
Yunho went to his room and closed the door. He put the package on his desk and sat down.  
  
  
It was small and square, quite light too. He decided on opening it swiftly. Inside there was a paper, folded in two, and a small transparent case with a CD inside. He unfolded the paper.

  
_ The truth _ .

  
The letters were typewritten and there was no signature.  
  
  
The truth about what? Yunho had a small inkling that made him both hopeful and anxious.

  
His computer was already on. He put the CD in and was not so surprised to see it was a video of about 15 minutes.  
  
  
He took a deep breath and pressed the play button, his heart beating fast with anticipation.

  
A storage room appeared on the screen. The quality was a bit grainy and it was in black and white. There was no sound. Overall, it looked like surveillance footage.  
  
  
Thirty seconds into it and nothing had happened. It was making Yunho impatient.

  
He was on the verge of fast forwarding a bit when the panel of what looked like a shaft fell down and two figures came out of it, landing on top of boxes.  
  
  
One of them slid some of the boxes in front of the door, effectively blocking it and then... waved a gun at the other.  
  
  
Yunho squinted his eyes. It was difficult to see the faces because of the camera’s angle but...

  
The man switched to a knife and was way too close to the other figure for Yunho’s taste.  
  
  
The sudden kiss and kick in the leg that followed made Yunho stand up in anger.

  
How could a video of an assault be related to Changmin’s strange behaviour? That was obviously a joke of a particularly bad taste.  
  
  
But then, while the man took his victim’s clothes off, the face of the victim became clearly visible and... He looked like Changmin, didn’t he?

  
Yunho fell down on his seat, too shocked to look away as he watched Changmin being abused. Seeing Changmin’s trousers were being lowered, however, he paused the video with a shaky hand.  
  
  
How could something like that have happened to his Changmin? He shouldn’t be watching that. This video shouldn’t exist in the first place. Maybe this was just a Changmin look-alike.  
  
  
As he was trying to deny what was right in front of him, making up explanations, Yunho knew that it was really Changmin he was seeing. It fitted with his behaviour and his wounds: him shying away from touches, his left ankle, the bruises on his neck and wrists...

  
Anger bubbled in his chest. Who could do something like that? He was going to kill the bastard. 

  
He decided to continue watching the video in hope of being able to the see the face of the attacker, but the sight of Changmin being hurt was too much so he fast forwarded it, trying to ignore what was happening by focusing on the back of the head of the attacker. 

  
He was not prepared to see Changmin grab the gun and swiftly kill the man, a bullet in his chest. Nor was he prepared to see his own face –his own nose, his own eyes, and his own mouth– being revealed as the attacker’s face after Changmin rolled the body off of him. 

  
Yunho was frozen in place, not believing his eyes as he watched the events unfold, seeing his face be stripped away from the attacker’s head as if it were a mere mask, revealing the face of a young woman instead.  
  
  
He saw Changmin lose consciousness, falling in a heap on the floor, as the police broke into the room.  
  
  
He saw them freeze in surprise at the surreal scene before rushing to the two bodies.  
  
  
He saw the attacker’s body being inspected, the paramedics taking Changmin away...

  
The screen turned black but Yunho could still see Changmin’s hurt body lying underneath his attacker, the attacker that had Yunho’s face, whom Changmin had probably believed to be Yunho.  
  
  
Everything made sense: Changmin’s scared face when Yunho had gripped his wrist and, yet, his guilty gaze as he shied away from Yunho’s touch.

  
Bile rose to his throat.  _ Now what? _


	3. Chapter 3

Grey buildings. Blue, red, black cars swishing by. A couple holding hands. A girl eating a hamburger. The greasy smell invaded Changmin’s nostrils even though she had already disappeared into the crowd.

 

Changmin closed the window and sat down again on the hospital bed. His stomach grumbled. The sky was as grey as the buildings that surrounded the hospital.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Changmin replied without turning to look at Yunho. He could hear the soft noise of Yunho’s shoes hitting the floor as he walked to his side.

 

“You ready?”

 

Changmin’s fingers pressed into his arm, into where the needle had been. The pain wasn’t much but it was sharp enough. Changmin finally met Yunho’s eyes and nodded.

 

Surprisingly Yunho looked away first and Changmin noticed the way Yunho’s lips were slightly pinched, the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

 

  
Changmin felt his chest tighten. Yunho was probably disappointed and disgusted by him, with how weak he was behaving. But he didn’t _know_. He had no right to judge.

 

  
Changmin’s head felt light as anger coursed through his veins. He quickly stood up, grabbed his bag and the car keys out of Yunho’s hand as he brushed past him.

 

“Changmin! Wait!”

 

Changmin didn’t stop until he had reached their car and locked himself in it; the journalists blurred in the background as his mind repeatedly showed Yunho – _not Yunho!_ – dying, his blood on Changmin’s hands.

 

A knock on the window snapped his mind back to the present. Yunho was standing outside, motioning for him to unlock the door. He did. Yunho sat down next to him, on the driver’s seat.

 

  
Surprisingly, Yunho just requested the keys, turned the motor and didn’t ask anything. The ride home was spent in silence. Changmin let the unfolding landscape lull him into sleep.

 

  
  
º

 

  
  
_His voice wouldn’t come out but Yunho (Yunho? really?) was taking his clothes off. Even though he didn’t want to. If only he could shout, then maybe… The knife was digging into his neck but he felt no pain. Yunho’s mouth was moving._

 

  
_“Changmin! Why did you kill me?”_

 

  
_He had not!_

 

  
_“Changmin! Why?”_

 

  
_Blood was flowing down Yunho’s face._

 

  
_“Changmin!”_

 

  
_He could feel the weight of a knife in his hands._

 

  
“Changmin! Wake up!”

 

  
Pain erupted from his head as Changmin woke up and his head collided with the car’s roof.

 

  
“Are you ok?”

 

  
Yunho stood outside the car, holding the door on Changmin’s side open. Changmin massaged his head, trying to lock eyes with Yunho. Yunho seemed to look at everything but him. He hadn’t said anything while sleeping, had he?

 

  
Changmin stepped out of the car, his hands tightening their hold on his bag, and brushed past Yunho.

 

  
“I’m fine.”

 

  
He heard Yunho lock the car and follow him a few steps behind. He didn’t seem to make any effort to catch up so Changmin decided to take the stairs. He had climbed the first step when he heard Yunho speak from behind him.

 

  
“Changmin! You need to rest.”

 

  
Changmin stilled before replying: “It’s only two floors. You take the lift if you want.”

 

  
He put more strength into climbing the next step but his legs felt like cotton and when he arrived at the doorstep, his thighs were burning in a way that made it difficult to stand. He leaned on the wall just as Yunho –he had also taken the stairs after all– arrived.

 

  
Yunho threw him a worried look, his lips pursed, but he simply unlocked the door and held it open. Changmin strode in and, without removing his shoes, directly locked himself in his room.  
  
  
He let his bag fall on the floor and kicked his shoes off, not caring where they fell, before letting himself slump onto the bed.

 

  
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

 

  
“Changmin. Do you…” Changmin heard Yunho’s voice waver into nothingness. “Do you want to eat something?” Yunho continued with a firm voice.

 

  
Changmin stood upright, staring at the closed door.

 

  
“Changmin?” said Yunho. “I guess you’re sleeping,” he added before Changmin could make up a lie.

 

  
Changmin threw his pillow to the floor.

 

  
º

 

  
Changmin was pushing his cereals around as they swam in the skimmed milk, glancing at Yunho now and then. Yunho saw him and raised an eyebrow. Changmin’s throat suddenly felt dry.

 

  
“What did they tell you?”

 

  
Yunho placed his cup of coffee down onto the table. “They?”

 

  
Changmin took a gulp of fresh water. “At the hospital.”

 

  
Yunho looked at him with concerned eyes, clearly knowing too much. Changmin looked away.

 

  
“You’re not eating properly,” Yunho said.

 

  
Changmin looked at his soaked cereals.

 

  
“Is that so?” Changmin replied.

 

  
He lifted the spoon to his mouth. The cereals were too soaked to be tasty but he forced himself to chew. It was no big deal. He swallowed and looked at Yunho.

 

  
“I must have been stressed and skipped a few meals.”

 

  
“Changmin, that’s…” Yunho started, but interrupted himself with a sigh. “Anyway, I have a few activities planned today but you are to stay here and rest for a few days.”

 

  
“A few days… what does that mean? How long exactly?”

 

  
“I don’t know exactly.” Yunho took another sip from his cup, avoiding his eyes.

 

  
“How long?”

 

  
Changmin stared at him, daring him to lie again. Yunho sighed.

 

  
“Two weeks.”

 

  
Changmin let his spoon fall in his bowl with a splatter. “Two weeks! That’s way too long!”

 

  
“That’s what the hospital recommended. They also said that you should…”

 

  
“That I should…?” Realisation dawned on Changmin’s face. “That I should go see a shrink.”

 

  
At Yunho’s wince, Changmin knew he was right. He could feel his cheeks heat and stood up abruptly. He made the mistake of looking at Yunho’s face again. His pleading face made his stomach turn and he felt bile rise to his throat.

 

  
An “I don’t fucking need to” tore away from him as he left the room. He pretended not to hear Yunho’s request to at least finish his meal.

 

  
º

 

  
It wasn’t until he heard the front door close behind Yunho that Changmin left his bed to go crash on the couch in the living room. He turned on the TV, surfing for a while, unable to settle on any channel.

 

  
Yunho was away. A meeting or whatever. He hadn’t told him any details. Anyway, he wasn’t really talkative these days. He kept avoiding him or, when he couldn’t, avoided looking at him.

 

  
Well, Changmin also avoided looking at himself in the mirror.

 

  
He had finally settled on a silly variety show when he heard the doorbell ring. He sighed, his body heavy. He flexed his feet but couldn’t find the strength to get up. He figured whoever was outside would grow tired of waiting and leave.

 

  
But they didn’t seem to give up if the banging on the door was any indication. Changmin grumbled but finally got up and slowly made his way to the door. He stopped in front of the door and leaned to peer through the peephole.

 

  
He jerked away.

 

  
Jaejoong was at the door.

 

  
Changmin took a deep breath. _Why?_

 

  
He looked again at the peephole. Jaejoong was looking at his watch. Changmin was startled when he suddenly looked up. It felt as if he was staring right at him.  
  
  
Jaejoong lifted his hand to knock on the door once again. Changmin impulsively opened the door, leaving Jaejoong blinking back at him, one hand in the air.

 

  
“What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

  
“I…” Jaejoong lowered his hand. “I came to see how you were doing.”

 

  
“Well, you’ve seen me. I’m great. Goodbye.”

 

  
Changmin tried to close the door but Jaejoong was quicker this time and managed to block it with his right foot.

 

  
“I can clearly see you’re not well.”

 

  
Changmin scoffed but didn’t open the door. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

 

  
“Let’s not start with that, Changmin,” Jaejoong whispered, leaning towards the small opening. “You know I care.”

 

  
Changmin looked away.

 

  
“Let me in, will you?”

 

  
“I’d prefer not to. Anyway this is more comfortable, isn’t it?”  
  
  
Changmin let his gaze fall back on Jaejoong and smirked while he leant on the door, applying more pressure onto Jaejoong’s foot.

 

  
Jaejoong’s face that had been pleading until then became blank. “If you weren’t skin and bones, this would probably hurt but…” He let his voice trail as he grabbed one of Changmin’s wrists.

 

  
Changmin jerked away, finally letting the door open, but Jaejoong’s grip on his wrist remained tight.

 

  
“See. You can’t even shake me off.”

 

  
“Let go!”

 

  
Changmin pushed him away with all his strength, his face white as a ghost. Seeing Changmin’s overreaction, Jaejoong let go.  
  
  
  
Changmin quickly pulled away, his back hitting the wall behind him. He was breathing heavily. One of his hands was gripping the front of his own shirt while the other rested on the wall, keeping him steady.

 

“Changmin, you’ve got to eat.” Changmin didn’t seem to be listening but Jaejoong went on, “I’m really sorry if this is about our… separation,” Jaejoong said, a pleading look directed at him. “You have to move on. Seek help.”

 

Changmin let a nervous laugh escape. “You think this is about the group? About you?”

 

“I…”

 

Changmin’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips tensed. “You! You! You! Not everything is about you three! It hasn’t been for a long time so you can go and die for all I care.”

 

Jaejoong stood frozen, his mouth agape. Changmin looked away and his gaze fell on his keys.

 

  
“Die?” Jaejoong’s voice wavered. “Do you hear yourself when you talk? Who is the one who is behaving like a brat? Don’t you see you’re hurting the people around you?”

 

  
“That’s rich coming from you. As if you ever cared about hurting others.” Changmin grabbed his keys.

 

  
“Changmin…”

 

  
“If you are finished - which you are, I assure you - leave.” He could feel the sharp end of a key digging into the palm of his hand.

 

  
“If it’s not us…” Changmin scowled further at the word, “then what’s wrong? What can we do? What can I do?”

 

  
“You can leave me alone.”

 

  
“Changmin…” Jaejoong took a few steps towards him.

 

  
“Leave.” Changmin’s arm came up to point at the door.

 

  
Jaejoong grabbed Changmin’s wrist again to lower his arm.

 

  
“Let me go!” Changmin shouted.  
  
  
Without thinking, he brought his other hand up towards Jaejoong. Jaejoong let him go and his hand flew to his cheek. When it came down, he saw red. A cut ran down Jaejoong’s face.

 

  
Changmin stumbled back and looked at the bloody keys he was now holding. He looked back at Jaejoong’s bloody cheek.

 

  
Jaejoong looked at Changmin with wide eyes. “I think… I think I’ll just go.”

 

  
Changmin nodded. Jaejoong walked past him, making a point to preserve their personal space. He stopped on the door’s threshold. “Take care,” he added before leaving.

 

  
The key was digging into Changmin’s palm again but this time it bit into the skin and Changmin could feel blood warming his palm. He looked at it. Blood. Jaejoong had bled.

 

  
Someone with a fake face wouldn’t bleed, would they? But it didn’t work like that, he knew. Her face hadn’t been a fake one. It had been real in a way. Warm to the touch.

 

  
How could he ever trust his own eyes again? If she had been able to change form, others could too. He could trust no one. Not even himself. He had hurt Jaejoong. He had _killed_ her.

 

  
The realisation of all of that settled heavily on his stomach. He fled.

 

  
º

 

  
At the store he grabbed all the junk food he could: instant noodles, chocolate, crisps, jam doughnuts…  
  
  
The cashier kept stealing glances at him. Changmin readjusted his cap and put money on the till.

 

  
“You can keep the change.”

 

  
He forced himself not to run as he climbed the stairs to their flat. Yunho wasn’t home. It made things easier but right now he didn’t care much if Yunho discovered his new habit, did he?

 

  
While he boiled water, he opened a bag of crisps and shoved some of them into his mouth. The saltiness and greasiness made him feel guilty. He poured the water onto the noodles. He ate the whole bag of crisps while waiting for the noodles to be done.

 

  
They were ready. Still standing at the kitchen counter, he stirred them and started eating. The noodles were burning his tongue but that didn’t prevent him from finishing them quickly. Next were doughnuts.  
  
  
His stomach felt painfully full. He had to finish everything right now though so the chocolate was also eaten.

 

  
He slid to the floor until he was lying down, the tiles cool against his face. He pressed a hand to his stomach. It hurt. He stayed a few seconds like that before standing up again.

 

  
The sight of the empty packages made his skin crawl. With one movement everything was on the floor. All of this was a mess.

 

  
He quickly walked to the bathroom and locked himself in.  
  
  
  
He went straight to the toilet bowl and lifted its seat. He stared at the clear water. If there was one thing Yunho hated, it was having their bathroom dirty. Changmin wished it was dirty. It made it easier.  
  
  
  
His hand hovered towards his face for a few seconds but his hesitation didn’t last long.

 

He bowed down, two fingers deep in his throat. Each time he had to plunge them deeper, pressing them to the back of his tongue and making them slide further into his throat. It was easier when everything came up with force, burning his chest and throat.

 

His left hand pressed on his left ear because of the multiple ear infections he had had this year.  
  
  
It felt as if the half-digested food would come up into it instead of falling into the water. Some of it splashed his face.

 

  
He looked at the gruesome mix of food he had frantically eaten not that long ago. He was as disgusting as those lumps of half-chewed noodles.  
  
  
His fingers went further and he retched again and again until there was nothing left and he dry heaved.

 

  
He flushed the toilet. Twice. It shined cleanly again. He sighed. The emptiness of his stomach made him feel peaceful.

 

  
He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and wet, tears rolling down from the strain. A red angry mark had appeared down from the left corner of his lips. He didn’t know from where it came –only two fingers went down his throat, his index and middle finger, maybe the others pushed against his skin near his mouth, he wasn’t sure– anyway he felt lighter.

 

  
He washed his hands carefully. It seemed like his fingers would always smell of vomit nowadays, despite the flower-scented soap. He washed his hands again but still. He splashed water on his face and dried the drops and tears on a towel.

 

  
He swallowed, trying to make the lump at the back of his throat disappear. He took a sip of water and made it go around his mouth before spitting it out. He drank the second sip while he took out his toothbrush and laid a generous portion of toothpaste on it. That would get rid of the taste.

 

  
He brushed –scrubbed– his teeth. The only thing white about him. He spat the toothpaste. It hit the sink and he saw tiny bits of food mixed with the red that always clung to his mouth.  
  
  
He passed his tongue on his upper teeth and was rewarded by a metallic taste. He looked at the mirror and smiled. His gum was bleeding a bit.

 

  
A knock on the bathroom door started him, making him drop his toothbrush into the sink.

 

  
“Changmin, are you there?”… Why is the kitchen in such a mess? Changmin, answer me. Are you alright? Changmin dumbly looked on as the door handle shook. “Changmin answer me!”

 

Changmin abruptly opened the door, nearly colliding into Yunho. Yunho quickly took a few steps back.

 

“I’m fine, gosh.” At Yunho’s skeptical face, Changmin added, “what? Did you think I would do something stupid while you weren’t there?”

 

Yunho shifted back, looking away.

 

  
Changmin inhaled sharply. “You did?!”

 

  
Anger stirred in his chest when he saw Yunho’s guilty look. Never mind that he had actually been doing some pretty stupid stuff.  
  
  
He wanted to hurt Yunho for doubting him, for treating him like a broken soul but Jaejoong’s hurt face flashed in his mind. He relaxed the hand that had been tensed into a tight fist –he hadn’t realised he had been raising it– and took a deep breath.

 

  
º

 

  
It was hidden in the kitchen, since Changmin figured that Yunho thought that was the last place Changmin would find something. He wasn’t wrong in a way.

 

  
_The truth_ , it had said. It could be anything, Changmin reminded himself as he inserted the CD into his laptop. A video file was on it. Or it could be exactly what he thought it could be. Changmin clicked on it and pressed play.

 

  
He only needed to see a few seconds of that storage room, even though it was grainy and in black and white, to recognise it.

 

  
He shakily pressed stop. Yunho knew. Worse. Yunho had _seen_.

 

  
But he had no time to process this new piece of information as the door of his room was yanked open. He met Yunho’s panicked eyes. He saw how Yunho’s gaze fell on the screen, a look of recognition crossing his face, to flicker uncertainly back to Changmin.

 

  
Changmin looked at him, waiting. He felt confused. He felt exposed. He had no idea how he was supposed to feel or to react. Be angry? Ashamed? Afraid? He could feel tears gathering in his eyes.

 

  
“Changmin… It’s ok,” said Yunho while taking a few steps forward.  
  
  
Changmin got up, his chair falling onto the floor with a loud thump.

 

  
“How can it be ok?” Changmin looked away before muttering: “How can it be ever ok again?”

 

  
“I can… I can leave you alone if I remind you… if it’s too painful for you.”

 

  
Changmin felt dizzy. “What are you saying?! Don’t you dare run away!”

 

  
“I’m not. But I understand how difficult it must be to see me without being reminded.”

 

  
Yunho was going to leave him too.

 

  
“Don’t tell me you understand! Have you ever had sex with a guy?”

 

  
“But that wasn’t sex, Changmin.”

 

  
Changmin laughed dryly.

 

  
“Then what was it? Cooking?”

 

  
He heard Yunho sigh. “It was rape.”

 

  
Changmin blinked quickly as he felt tears threaten to spill. Yunho’s face fell.

 

  
“Ah! I didn’t mean to be so blunt but…”

 

  
“But I didn’t give you a choice.” Changmin’s tears were now flowing freely on his cheeks.

 

  
Suddenly he was engulfed into a warm hug. He could feel himself relax slowly into the embrace, his tears soaking Yunho’s shirt.

 

  
Among all the emotions that were overwhelming him, the strongest one was _relief_.

 

  
They stayed like that for a while until Yunho made them sit on Changmin’s bed. Yunho waited for Changmin to speak.

 

  
“It’s not that bad,” Changmin said.

 

  
“And yet you…” Yunho bit his lower lip, “This shouldn’t have been covered up… Something that can change its shape, it’s…”

 

  
“You can’t do anything about it. They threatened me.”

 

  
“Who?”

 

  
“You don’t need to know. I’m fine. I don’t need you to go and play the hero. I need you here.” Changmin gripped his arm.

 

  
Yunho looked at him in surprise.

 

  
“Don’t you dare leave me.”

 

  
Yunho smiled before ruffling Changmin’s hair.

 

  
“I won’t.”

 

 

  
º

 

 

  
Yunho had been waiting at this café for more than twenty minutes. He was starting to feel impatient.  
  
  
After the CD, he had received a card naming a time and meeting place with the accompanying sentence _if you want the truth._

 

  
It had been suspicious but seeing Changmin’s devastated expression had fuelled his motivation. He had to get to the bottom of this. Which is why he was sitting at a table in a corner of a coffee shop, wearing a cap and sunglasses, waiting for answers.

 

  
His answers sat down heavily on the opposite seat, breaking his train of thought. She smiled at him and slid a business card on the table. It took him a moment to detach his gaze from the young and pretty face to take the card.

 

  
Kim Yoon Hee, it said. Reporter. This was definitely not what he had expected.

 

  
She pushed her long black hair behind her ear before she started speaking. Yunho couldn’t help but notice the bruises on her thin wrist.

 

  
“Let’s not dance around the matter at hand, Yunho,” she paused. “Can I call Yunho? You can call me Yoon Hee.”

 

  
Yunho nodded. Yoon Hee took out a folder out her brown leather bag and let it fall on the table.

 

  
“This is all the information I’ve gathered about them.”

 

  
“Them?”

 

  
“The spec users.” At Yunho’s blank look, she went on, “Changmin’s attacker was a spec user, that is, someone who has a special ability.”

 

  
“You used the plural. There are more of them?”

 

  
Yoon Hee scoffed. “You thought it was a unique freak accident? There are many of them with very different abilities. Changmin’s attack was a shape-shifter. She could change her body shape to become whoever she wanted but some other spec users can stop time or,” she looked away, “read your thoughts.”

 

  
Yunho looked down his cup of coffee. Somehow this was difficult to process for him, even though he had seen the footage with his very own eyes.

 

  
Yoon Hee shifted nervously in her seat. “I don’t have time for this. They nearly found me out…” She caught Yunho’s gaze on her right wrist and hid it underneath the table. “I’ve got to act soon or this could go very wrong.”

 

  
“But what’s your motivation? Why are you doing all of this?”

 

  
“It’s a reporter’s duty to find—“

 

  
“Cut the crap.” Yoon Hee’s smile tensed. “I need a real reason if I’m to be in this.”

 

  
Yoon Hee leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table, and propped her head on her left hand. “Let’s say I lost something—”

 

  
“Someone.”

 

  
She smiled tiredly at him. “Someone. I lost someone precious and I want revenge.” Her smile turned dangerous.

 

  
Yunho leaned away from the table, his back resting on the back of his seat. “Even then, why are you involving me?”

 

  
“Haven’t you lost something precious too? Furthermore, you’re famous and Changmin’s case was heavily covered by the media. This makes things easier.”

 

  
“In what way?”

 

  
“If we get caught.”

 

  
Yunho stayed silent.

 

  
“In the worst case scenario, people would start making the connection or, at the very least, they would start paying attention.” She straightened and lifted the folder.

 

  
“My plan is all laid out in this folder,” she shook it, “but to sum it up, the main point is that we infiltrate their main lab, collect evidence and reveal everything to the public.”

 

  
She let it sink before adding: “If you want in, I have to know now.”

 

  
“Lab? Infiltrate? Isn’t that a job for the police?”

 

  
“It is. Except the police is in on it, as is the government. We’re all alone.” She slid the folder close to Yunho and crossed her arms on her chest. “In or not?”

 

  
“I…” Yunho’s gaze fell on her wrist again and it reminded him of Changmin’s bruised neck and his now incredibly thin limbs. He sighed. “In.”

 

Changmin was lying on the couch in his pyjamas when Yunho came back. The TV was off though. Yunho came to stand in front of the couch after having hidden the folder in his room.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Changmin turned his head to look at him. “I was contemplating the whiteness of the ceiling until you interrupted.”

 

“Ah, is that so?” Yunho said uncertainly.

 

Changmin’s lips broke into a grin. “Stupid. The TV program I was watching just finished so I was resting my eyes for a few seconds when you came in.”

 

Yunho smiled back. “I see.” And after a few seconds of hesitation, he asked: “Can I sit down?”

 

Changmin’s face showed surprise with a dash of apprehension but he nonetheless sat up and patted the spot next to him.

 

Yunho sat down, careful in letting enough space between the two of them.

 

“You came home quite late,” Changmin remarked.

 

Yunho froze. “Oh, you know, a meeting that went long past its scheduled time.”

 

“Is that so? You weren’t too bored?” Changmin looked at his lap where his hands were grasped together. “I’m sorry I’m not doing my share of the work.”

 

“Don’t be silly.” Yunho’s tone was sharp, the one he used for business when he was fed up with hearing nonsense.

 

Changmin looked at him with wide eyes. “But—”

 

“No buts.” Yunho’s voice turned softer and started chattering, “let’s watch a film. I kind of wanted to see _Architecture 101_ and one of the make-up artists just happened to have it. I had to do some really embarrassing aegyo but she finally lent it to me.”

 

Changmin smiled at Yunho’s attempt at distracting him. “What kind of aegyo? You aren’t cute at all.”

 

  
Yunho faked a look of outrage before putting his hands together underneath his jaw, framing the lower part of his face. Pouting, he protested: “I’m always cute, aren’t I?”

 

  
“Ugh. Stop using this voice. It feels disgusting.”

 

“Not until you agree to watch the film with me,” Yunho answered with a syrupy voice.

 

  
“I surrender,” Changmin said while hugging a pillow.

 

  
Halfway through the film, when Yunho was grumbling for Seo Yeon to make her mind, Changmin’s head had come to rest on Yunho’s shoulder. Yunho didn’t dare turn to look at him but he heard Changmin’s breathing even out.

 

  
Carefully, Yunho led Changmin’s sleeping form in a more comfortable position, his head lying on Yunho’s lap. He gently stroked Changmin’s hair.

 

  
“What am I going to do with you?” Yunho murmured. He resumed watching the film.

 

  
º

 

  
Changmin woke up to a blanket and an empty spot next to him. Yunho was gone. He looked at the digital clock next to the TV.

 

  
2.30am.

 

  
Yunho was nowhere to be found and his phone was disconnected. Changmin felt panic rise, his pulse quickening.

 

  
º

 

  
It only took a few rings before a cranky voice answered.

 

  
“It’s 2 in the morning. This better be good or there will be deaths. Whoever you are, you have five seconds.”

 

  
“Yoochun… I don’t have time to explain but if something were to happen…”

 

  
“Yunho? What’s happening? What…?”

 

  
“Just take care of Chang—”

 

  
A hand had grabbed his phone and he watched helplessly how the charger was taken out and was pocketed by Yoon Hee. He threw her a mean glare as she gave him a different phone.

 

  
“No time for social calls. This is to call me if there is any trouble. There won’t be though.” Yunho could see the faint tremors than ran through her hands. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

 

  
“This is crazy. We’re crazy. There’s still time to stop this.” Yunho could still feel Changmin’s warmth on his shoulder.

 

  
“Stop muttering and come help me with the equipment.”

 

  
Yunho remembered how Changmin had twitched in his sleep, how his eyebrows had furrowed until Yunho had stroked his hair and muttered nonsense in a soothing voice.

 

  
His resolve hardened. He took several pieces of equipment Yoon Hee had deemed essential –a camera, a torch light and a knife– and he put them into the pockets of his black vest.

 

  
Yoon Hee closed the trunk of the rented car. “One last thing before we go.”

 

  
“Wha—” Yunho froze when he saw the gun in her hand.

 

  
“Do you know how to use one?”

 

  
Yunho’s words escaped him.

 

  
“I thought so. But don’t worry, it’s just a precaution,” she smiled at him, “better safe than sorry.”

 

  
Yunho wondered how a weapon could be considered as something safe.

 

  
“Yunho, are you listening? Look, you just have to take the safety off,” which Yoon Hee did as the clicking sound indicated, “then you aim and shoot.”

 

  
After putting the safety back on, Yoon Hee took advantage of Yunho’s daze to push the gun into his hand. “You won’t need any reload so just think safety off, aim, shoot.”

 

  
The heavy weight in his hands felt at the same time very similar and yet completely different to the guns he had handled for dramas. This one could actually hurt someone.

 

  
“Ok. Let’s go.”

 

  
Yunho nodded and they both pulled their hood over their faces. It was also part of the ‘better safe than sorry’ policy.

 

  
Yunho was surprised to find that the building they were going to break into was actually ordinary-looking. There were no big electrified fences and guards with fancy weaponry or big dangerous dogs. It was just a small three-story building in the outskirts of Seoul, looking like any other business building.

 

  
They entered by a back door that Yoon Hee unlocked, with some difficulties but still.

 

  
“I don’t want to know why you know how to do that.”

 

  
They entered the building. From the looks of it, they had landed in the kitchen, which explained the lack of extensive security.

 

  
The whiteness of the corridor was blinding. A few doors presented themselves but only one had a high level of security. Typing an access code into a keypad seemed to be the key to unlock it.

 

  
“Now what?” Yunho asked.

 

  
“Now, as planned, we look through those rooms to find incriminating stuff while we search for the code.”

 

  
Yunho stared at her. Yoon Hee winced. “I know it’s not the best plan ever, but let’s try,” she whispered. “I take the first and second doors, you take the third and fourth.”

 

  
The third room was the host of a lot of measuring and science-related equipment. Everything was squeaky clean.

 

  
The fourth room had already the lights on when Yunho entered it. He realised too late that a figure was hunched over a table, scribbling in a small notebook.

 

  
Yunho ducked under a table. His heartbeat sped up. He felt like everyone in the building would be able to hear his heartbeat. He had to warn Yoon Hee but he would make too much noise if he tried to send her a text. His hold on the gun tightened. He just had to wait for the person to leave.

 

  
It probably would have worked if it hadn’t been for the pen that the person had dropped. The person bent down to retrieve it and, for a brief second, Yunho made eye-contact with him.

 

  
Both abruptly stood up and Yunho pointed his gun at the man. The man slowly raised his hands in a signal of surrender.

 

  
He was wearing a lab coat. A scientist working here had to have the access code. Well, the damage was already done.

 

  
“Open the locked door or you’re dead,” Yunho waved his gun towards the door, trying to hide his shaking and appear threatening.

 

The man looked torn but the click of the safety being taken off made him move towards the door. They left the room, once again in the white corridor, and Yunho saw that the second door was slightly open. He hoped Yoon Hee was safe.

 

The scientist slowly typed the code. The door unlocked and he looked back at Yunho hesitatingly. Yunho waved the gun again towards the door. The scientist entered and Yunho followed.

 

A shiver ran down his spine as he saw many test tubes and jars of formaldehyde lined up in cupboards. He tried not to look at the suspicious shapes that resided in those jars.

 

He suddenly thought of the camera and decided to take some pictures. He threw a glance at the scientist, his gun still pointed at him, and took out his camera.  
  
  
  
It was a bit awkward but he still managed to take pictures with one hand. He took an overall picture of the room but decided that he had to do close-up of the jars.

 

Brains, hands, hearts made his stomach lurch but when the eyes of _patient 0_ , as labelled on the jar, looked back at him, he stumbled back.

 

The scientist sized this chance to plunge towards him, a syringe in his hand. They struggled for a bit before Yunho dropped his gun and the syringe pierced his skin. Something cold went up and down his arm. It went on to freeze his chest and then everywhere. His heart felt as if it would stop. He fell on his knees, clutching his head.

 

The scientist took a few steps back and pressed a red button. An alarm started to ring, making Yunho’s headache worse. Through the blinding pain, Yunho saw that his gun that had slid underneath a table. He threw himself underneath it, his hands closed on the gun and he quickly stood up at the other side of the table. His legs felt like jelly but he managed to stabilise himself by putting one hand on the table.

 

He aimed at the scientist but he found himself unable to shoot. Both were breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes. The man let the syringe fall, breaking his concentration, as a guard rushed into the room aiming at Yunho.

 

He shut his eyes tightly as he heard a gun being fired, anticipating the pain, but he only felt a hand closing onto his arm and dragging him away.

 

“Come on! Yunho! Help me save you.”

 

The white corridor was now blinking red as they dashed towards the kitchen. Yoon Hee locked the door behind them and finally fresh air hit them as they exited the building.

 

It didn’t mean they were safe yet. They were running towards the car when Yunho felt a bullet grazing his side.

 

Yoon Hee was the quickest and threw herself into the car. She started the engine and was already stepping on the gas when Yunho managed to climb into the car.

 

“Are you ok? Did you get anything?” Yoon Hee asked, breathlessly as she stepped on the accelerator.

 

Yunho’s vision swam. He took off his hood.

 

“Yunho?”

 

“I got pictures of strange jars.” Yunho patted himself but the pocket in which the camera was supposed to be was empty. He had dropped the camera when the scientist attacked him.

 

“Yoon Hee… I’m sorry,” Yunho stumbled on the words, “I think I dropped the camera.”

 

Yoon Hee made a sudden turn and stopped when they arrived in the back of a small alley. Yunho was sweating a lot and he could smell blood in the air.

 

He was pretty sure he hadn’t been shot though. Through the haze that had invaded his mind, he looked at Yoon Hee.

 

She was resting, leaning back on her seat, her eyes tightly closed. She had let her hood fall on her knees and she looked in pain.

 

Yunho’s gaze travelled down and he could see how hard she was clutching her leg. Blood flowed through her fingers. Its dark tinge was definitely a bad sign.

 

“Yoon Hee!” Yunho grabbed his phone and dialled the emergency service. “Where are we?”

 

“Dongja-dong street,” she muttered. “Don’t fret too much. It looks worse than what it really is.”

 

The ambulance would take only a few minutes to get there. They would be fine, Yunho convinced himself.

 

She let escape a gasp and Yunho moved closer. He lifted his hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead but instead something flashed in his mind.

 

_“No! Don’t!” He was shouting, or was he? Thin fingers reached towards the man that stood on the ledge of the building. “We can fix this,” he said._

 

_The man turned around. He smiled. “No, we can’t Yoon Hee.”_

 

_He turned back and Yoon Hee ran to him but her fingers were too late. They only grazed the shirt as the man jumped.  
  
  
_

_The fall was short and the thickening thump resounded in his brain. Yoon Hee closed her eyes and everything turned black._

 

_“I wish this hadn’t happened.”_

 

_Ok._

 

Yunho opened his eyes and jerked his hands away. Yoon Hee looked at him.

 

“Who are you?”

 

He blinked in surprise. “It’s me Yunho.”

 

“I don’t know you.” Yoon Hee closed her eyes. “I’m sleepy.”

 

Sirens rang in his ears. He turned the car lights, gave a quick kiss to Yoon Hee’s cheek and stumbled out of the car. It had started to rain at some point.

 

Yunho fled.

 

  
º

 

When Yunho opened the door, he was welcomed by a very angry Changmin.

 

“It’s 10am. I’ve been searching for you everywhere and then, 5 hours ago, there was this announcement on TV about this woman being shot and—” Changmin finally took Yunho’s appearance in. “Why are you dripping wet?”  
  
  
Changmin gulped, his hands hovering near Yunho’s. “Why do you have blood on your cuffs? What have you done?”

 

Yunho’s lips tightened into a thin line and pushed past Changmin to lock himself into the bathroom.

 

He turned on the shower and went in without taking his clothes off.

 

Nothing made sense. The man jumping off the ledge flashed through his mind. He was part of Yoon Hee’s memories. He had been seeing her memories; the reason why she had wanted to do everything. And then... she had been wishing to forget everything.

 

_Who are you?_   She had asked Yunho.

 

Yunho looked at his arm, at the tiny red dot that the syringe had left. It should not, could not, be possible but he had been the one that had said _ok_. He had wanted to help Yoon Hee.

 

He had erased her memories.

 

Yunho closed his eyes and let the water wash away his sweat and her blood.

 

Once dry and changed –his soiled clothes put into a big bag that he would throw away later– he still didn’t feel any cleaner. He stepped out of the bathroom and went to the living room. Changmin sat on the couch, watching TV.

 

The woman had been saved. They were searching for witnesses. She didn’t remember anything that happened to her, nothing before her husband’s suicide. Specialists were arguing about trauma and self-harm, explaining the lack of witnesses.

 

Yunho looked at his hands. He walked to Changmin. Changmin jerked back, fear in his eyes. Yunho saw the knife resting on the couch next to Changmin’s hand.

 

“Yunho… You are Yunho, right?” Changmin gripped the knife.

 

It’s for the best, Yunho thought. He could save him too.

 

He smiled at Changmin. “Of course.”

 

The gentle smile seemed to relax Changmin somewhat. “They say that she tried to kill herself.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The woman. On TV. She was found in a rented car,” Changmin said nervously.

 

“Was she? That’s terrible.” Yunho sat next to Changmin, who tensed.

 

“What were you doing? Why did you leave the flat?”

 

“I had some photoshoot to do. You know, the ones where you have to look cool, at night, in the middle of Seoul, under the rain. Fans love wet white shirts.”

 

Changmin’s grip on the knife tightened. “And the blood?”

 

“It wasn’t blood. I just happened to touch fresh paint before coming. I managed to wash my hands but not the shirt. Satisfied?”

 

Changmin nodded after a few seconds. Yunho smiled warmly, “Can I have the knife then?”

 

Changmin blushed. “Ah, sorry for that. It’s just…”

 

“It’s ok.” Yunho’s fingers closed on Changmin’s and the storage room flashed in his mind. 

 

  
_“I wish this hadn’t happened.”_

 

  
_Ok._

 

  
He could protect himself. He could protect Changmin. Maybe instead of erasing, he could modify it a bit.

 

“Changmin? Changmin?” Yunho turned off the TV.

 

“Huh,” Changmin looked at him, confused.

 

“We were going to eat breakfast until you started spacing out.”

 

“Was I?” Changmin stood up.

 

“Yes, what were you thinking about?” Yunho had to hide the small wobble as he also stood up.

 

Changmin shrugged. “Well, I don’t remember. It mustn’t have been important.” Changmin paused, frowned.“Oh! Remind me to go to the bank tomorrow.”

 

Yunho’s hand froze over the rice cooker. “Why?”

 

Changmin turned the coffee maker on. “Well, I meant to go to the bank right before I fell ill. Don’t you remember?”

 

Yunho started to fill Changmin’s bowl with rice. “I had our manager take care of it while you were resting at the hospital. Here, your rice.”

 

Changmin took the bowl and set it down on the table. “Ah, I’m so sorry for the trouble I caused. To get pneumonia during promotion time...”

 

Yunho sat down with his own bowl. “Don’t worry about it.”

  
  
He thanked Changmin for the coffee pot Changmin had put on the table. “Anyway, you’re all fine now, aren’t you?

 

“Yes, I feel great if a bit tired. Ah, before I forget.”  
  


Changmin went to the living room and came back with Yunho’s phone. “It kept ringing while you were in the shower. I didn’t recognise the number so I didn’t answer.”

 

Yunho took the phone. 3 missed calls from 02-213-7546. Yoochun. His hand rubbed the red dot on his arm. He could finally fix everything, maybe.

 

Changmin sat down. “Anyway, I’m sooooo hungry!”

 

Changmin smiled at him as he stuffed his face with rice. Yunho smiled back.

 


End file.
